


From Above

by lyragrace



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Roy Harper, Canon can suck my nonexistent dick, Canon-Typical Violence, Kaldur is a little shit, Kaldur'ahm centric, Kidnapping, M/M, Original Character(s), Pansexual Kaldur'ahm, Pre-Series, Roy is confused, Slow Updates, There will be too many father figures by the time this is over, i am confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:46:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyragrace/pseuds/lyragrace
Summary: In which Kaldur is trained to be a soldier, an assassin, and a leader, but not Aquaman's protege. It's not his fault, really. How can you be Aqualad when you haven't seen Atlantis since you were nine?





	1. Chapter 1

**_~_ **

**_Chapter One_ **

**“There's terrible evil in the world."**

**“It comes from men," said Holly. "All other elil do what they have to do and Frith moves them as he moves us. They live on the earth and they need food. Men will never rest till they've spoiled the earth and destroyed the animals.”**

**― Richard Adams, _Watership Down_**

**_~_ **

**_Shayeris_ **

**_February 4, 2003   11:06 UTC-2_ **

“It is not a big deal,” Sha’lain’a’s fingers twitch her hair into a thick braid, nimbly dancing over the floating strands, “We have gone to the surface world before without trouble.”

The man she speaks to shakes his head, unable to get rid of the mood that had settled over him. The beach that they would go to was relatively deserted, but there was always a chance that someone would be there to see them. He hated that he could not go, hated that his face was known to the surface world as a villain.

“Sha’lain’a, please. Tensions are high on the surface world. Every day, there are new heroes, and new villains. Stay down here this time,” Calvin insists even as he packs her bag. He softens his voice at the sound of movement outside the room.

There is amusement in her voice when she hears it, “Kaldur has been talking about this trip for ages. I cannot suddenly change plans. It is his birthday!”

Calvin pinches his nose, staring at the bag in exasperation. Sha’lain’a was stubborn in a way that he had never seen before. It was awful, and it was one of his favorite things about her. He had never won an argument with her, and he knew he would regret the day he did. It was because of her stubbornness that he was here, and not on that cursed ship.

It was because of her stubbornness that he was even alive.

“He’s nine, he’ll get over it,” Sha’lain’a laughs, high and bright, “Okay, that was low, even for me.”

“You are an awful man,” He jerks in surprise when she kisses his shoulder, turning quickly. Except she was already gone, tugging the straps of the bag from his hand, “And I am even worse.”

“When are we going to go?” Calvin groans at the shriek and searches for its source, finding it in the kitchen. Kaldur had a small bag wrapped around his wrist. His eyes were big as he looked at him, “Father, are you coming this time?”

_Father._

When he heard that name, he fell in love a little bit more. Calvin had chosen this life, this family. He would die for them before he let anything happen to them. One day, he would have to tell Kaldur the truth, but not today, not when his mouth was stretched into a lopsided smile, complete with a missing tooth.

Calvin swims to him, spins him around, “Not today, little one. I have to stay here and make sure no sharks get in while you and your mother are away.”

“Kaldur, say goodbye. It’s time to go,” Sha’lain’a calls out, “Ready?”

When they leave, the house goes completely quiet. Calvin shudders, some part of him wanting them to come back. Something _bad_ was coming. He could feel it.

**_Rio Do Fogo_ **

**_14:37 GMT-2_ **

Her son goes quiet an hour after they change into surface clothes and begin to explore the beach. Quiet was not a good look for her son. It means trouble and questions she does not want to answer. She waits for them, tossing seashells into the ocean. A plastic bottle went into the now-empty bag she had brought with them. Surface-worlders had no respect for what had been given to them. Nature was generous, and she was also cruel. Years from now, they would regret their treatment of their world.

“Why does father refuse to come to the surface?” It was an innocent question with an ugly answer.

Sha’lain’a tosses another shell, “Your father is a kind man, Kaldur, but he did terrible things when he was younger. Our king has forgiven him, but the surface world has not.”

“What made him stop?” Kaldur wanders over to a small structure made out of sand. He pauses, then adds a handful of sand to make a pointed roof for the castle, “If he did not know any better, how did he manage to figure out he was being bad?”

“He and I met, and I convinced him to be a good person,” Sha’lain’a smiles to herself, “So many questions for such a young boy! Come, let’s do something _fun.”_

Later, they settle on the sand to watch the sun fall beneath the waves. Kaldur licks at a popsicle, content to lean against her. Sometimes, she wondered if she ever would have trouble with him. It was doubtful. Her son was an old soul, and already a better man than his father would ever be.

“This is why I love the surface. Look at how beautiful the sunset is!” Sha’lain’a exclaims. Her son grins at her, “Well, best birthday ever?”

“The best,” He agrees solemnly. She ruffles his hair at that. By the gods, she loved him so much more. His father, his biological one, had been a mess of anger from following a broken cause for years. When she had met him, she had fallen for his message, only to realize that he was nothing she wanted to be around. Kaldur and Calvin had been the only good things to come out of that relationship.

“Excuse me, miss?” A male voice asks, “Miss?”

Sha’lain’a is on her feet in an instant, wary of strangers, “Yes?”

The man in front of her is tall and muscled. He’s also holding a gun, “Kaldur, get into the water and swim. Go!”

Her boy doesn’t move, eyes fixed on the man. Sha’lain’a knows how this will go, can feel it in her bones. She moves, kicking the gun out of his hand and running towards Kaldur, trying to push him into the water. He needed to _go._ Atlanteans were myths, coveted prizes. She could escape, but Kaldur? Kaldur wouldn’t be able to fight back.

Kaldur’s eyes are wide, “Mother, look out!”

The crack of the gun is the last thing she hears, and then the sand is painted red with her blood.

**_Buenos Aires_ **

**_July 15, 2006   21:19 GMT-3_ **

“Look at these stats, Maria,” Alejandro hands the tablet to her, “We started with an open fight. Of course, a few kids took charge. Once we knew who the leaders were, we started pulling out the kids that didn’t fit and cycling in ones we thought they would want.”

“And?” Maria prompts. On the other side of the glass, a kid collapses, blood spilling from his chest, “Thank God we got rid of that one.”

“Kaldur’ahm, the blonde one with the swords? He fucking tapped on the glass and asked for a better sharpshooter,” Alejandro curses, “I gave him one. They spoke for five seconds, and then the sharpshooter disappeared into the rafters and started taking out the other team.”

“You think that his team is the one?” Maria asks as she swipes through pages of data, “Yes, it looks like it. We expected him to lead, but I thought he would pick other candidates for his team.”

“Stronger ones, you mean? He picked ones that knew how to fit their powers into a team. They’re still pretty fucking powerful,” Alejandro points out. He taps a button, causing a buzzer to ring out, “You know, I used to think we would have to terminate him? He was an awful kid. Now? He’s damn good.”

“Still a kid,” Maria grumbles, “I wish we could wait a few years. It would make this easier, and they wouldn’t be so damn immature.”

“Come on, with the way we treat them? They’re perfect for this,” Alejandro says, “Tomorrow, we’ll move them into rooms together. They’ll train each day, and we’ll put them into smaller groups to develop the group relationship. Give them a month, you’ll see.”

Maria hums, “Okay, a month. Otherwise, they all go back to individual missions.”

**_Paris_ **

**_August 29, 2006   20:02 GMT+1_ **

_“Chameleon in position,”_  Kraken taps his comm to signal that he had heard, “ _Man, this guy is fucking ugly.”_

“ _We’re doing a service then. Yo, Marksman, how’s the view up there?”_ Cobalt asks. Kraken groans, rubbing his temples. They were never going to shut up.

Marksman hisses, “ _Markswoman, thank you very much. And it’s perfect. I’ve always wanted to see a businessman fuck a prostitute.”_

_“Exciting,”_ Lynx laughs beside him. He looks at her, taking in her angular features and the white fangs that had earned her the feline name, _“Film it. We can sell it to the press.”_

“ _Hmm, the security has stepped out for a smoke,”_ Chameleon announces, _“And now he’s unconscious. The hall is clear.”_

“Cobalt, the door,” Kraken prompts him. Cobalt grunts out a reply, the sound of a door shattering filtering through the comm.

“Boludo,” Lynx says softly, “So much for a quiet entrance.”

Kraken frowns at the phrase, “What does that mean? That is not a real word, is it?”

“It’s slang. You don’t need to know, pretty boy,” The Argentine girl pats his arm, “Our ride is here.”

“Team One, you are on your own,” Kraken jumps from the bridge, landing heavily on the roof of the limo. Lynx lands beside him, digging a knife into the roof to stop her momentum, “Engage.”

Lynx angles her hands down, a moment later, concentrated heat melting the metal and plastic until a hole is burned into the roof. Kraken could have cut through with his swords, but there was something terrifying about seeing someone slowly break into what you believed to be safe in. They drop through the hole and rise to face the two people seated at the back of the limo.

“Monsieur Vidal!” Lynx bows in greeting, “And the lovely Madame Dimont. A pleasure, really, it is. If you wouldn’t mind, we need the Monsieur for a moment.”

“No, no! I told them I would do what they wanted - ” Kraken strikes out with his water bearer, the water pulling him out of his seat. He makes eye contact with Dimont and raises an eyebrow at the lack of fear in her eyes. Lynx launches herself forward, perching on the seat next to her.

Her knife rakes through the silk of her dress and scores a line down her chest, “Have to make it look real, eh?”

He ignores her activities, instead focusing on the man quivering in front of him. A sword forms in his hands, glowing eerily in the dimly lit cabin. Kraken swings, the sound the blade makes as it connects with the target’s neck making his stomach roll. He straightens up, tucking his water bearers back into their holsters.

“ _Target taken out,”_ Marksman announced, “ _Thank fucking God. If I had to look at his face one more time – “_

“Our target has been terminated as well. Meet at the location previously discussed for pick-up,” Kraken cut her off harshly, “Lynx, get us out of this car.”

“Yes, that’s a thing,” She knocks on the screen separating the driver from the cabin, “Excuse me, sir? I drank too much. I think I’m going to throw up!”

The vehicle swerves to a stop, allowing them to open the door and disappear onto the streets. Lynx slows to a leisurely stroll, eyes wide as she takes in the lights, “Perhaps we could stay for a few more hours?”

“No,” Kraken snaps. Lynx flinches back, “I – Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” She doesn’t look at him, “You should pray to your gods, Kaldur’ahm, and I should too.”

He stiffens at the name, at the mention of his culture. He didn’t pray, didn’t ask for forgiveness from the gods that abandoned him. The moment that they had taken him, the gods had turned their back on him. Their names were faded now, and he couldn’t remember the prayers he had once learned or the things they had stood for. He didn’t want to, and Lynx knew that.

“Let me decide if I want to suffer or not, Constanza! My gods are stories, they were made up to teach little boys how to behave. Do not speak to me about this again, or I will report you for praying to your God and speaking a language you are not permitted to speak. You know the rules of the Ivory Tower. We leave everything behind,” He spits out. It’s a cruel threat.

“Fuck you and fuck you for being someone I care about. I’d kill you if you weren’t. I’m never leaving myself behind, and you shouldn’t either,” Lynx lowers her voice as they approach the meeting point. Kraken doesn’t respond to comment, instead looking for his team members.

Cobalt is the first to appear, and the most noticeable, but only for the blue tinge to his skin. He pushes off the wall he had been leaning against and nods respectfully to him. The second most noticeable thing was the muscles he had, which were unusually large for a twelve year-old. His skin-tight suit left nothing to the imagination, and made him seem intimidating despite how young he was. The effect, of course, was ruined by the way he bounced on his toes at the sight of them.

Marksman is next, dropping from the car she had been perched on. The cloth wound around her face falls as she slings her rifle over her shoulder, exposing dark skin and darker eyes. She catches the fabric and tucks it into the wide sash that serves as her belt. She saunters over, “Mm, it was a good plan, Kraken.”

Chameleon is last, as always, the colors filtering slowly back into her body. As soft as her voice was, her movements were softer still. She was their spy, their silent assassin. When a client wanted a quiet assassination, the Ivory Tower sent her to do it. Her eyes widen at the sight of Kraken’s frown, blonde hair flashing into view for a second before she fades into the wall behind her.

“We will discuss the mission when we get back, but good work,” The compliment is given grudgingly.

Lynx smiles, all teeth, “Damn, did you expect anything else?”

**_The Ivory Tower, Buenos Aires_ **

**_October 20, 2006   07:20 GMT-3_ **

Lynx prowls the room, steps light as she stalks over the training mats. Kaldur leans against a set of weights, arms crossed as he waits for her to make a move. She suddenly comes to a stop and swings to face him, liquid brown eyes narrowing as she looks at him. Her muscles are coiled beneath her skin, and all he can see is a cat waiting to pounce.

“You are telegraphing your moves,” He calls out to her, “I thought we fixed this.”

She launches herself to the side and not in the direction he expects her to go in, “We did!”

He spins to block her knives, water bearers molding themselves into twin swords. Kaldur ducks under her strike and brings a knee up to her groin. It still hurts to hit there, even if she isn’t a boy. Lynx twists in an impossible way, somehow placing her foot on his knee and using it to propel herself up. Her knee hits him squarely in the face, and just barely avoids breaking his nose.

Kaldur moves before she completes her attack, dropping to the floor and pushing up. She flies over his head and he twists to his feet. She barely blocks his next attack, another knife flashing into her hand as she leaps in too close for him to use his swords. He drops them and drives a fist into her diaphragm hard enough to throw her against the wall.

Lynx collapses, her hand tapping the ground twice. She was out, “You know better than that.”

“I thought I would try to do something you hadn’t seen in a while,” She chokes out, “That was _mean.”_

“The enemy is not nice, Lynx,” He reminds her. And it was true. While some people may hesitate to fire a bullet or throw a punch at a teenager, he knew many who wouldn’t. Before this team, he had gone on many solo missions where his enemies had made it a point to go harder on him because he was a kid. He had learned from his mistakes, and so would Lynx.

“Why aren’t we working with the team today,” Lynx asks when she can finally stand. She dusts off her leggings and tucks her knives back into her arm sheaths. She loved that team more than he did, and it was why she was his second, and not Marksman.

“The team is important, but you are my partner,” He fixes her with a stern look, “I cannot let my partner fall behind because she is more focused on books and teaching me Argentine slang.”

“Fucking asshole,” She curses at him, but he catches the fond look she shoots at him, “You won’t speak English like a normal person, so I’m going to make you sound a little more normal in Spanish.”

Kaldur was, in the words of Lynx, a little shit. He had come to the Ivory Tower knowing the basics of English, how to clumsily string together sentences, but not how to lose his accent or speak conversationally. One day, his instructor had spoken to a trainer in front of him, believing that Kaldur didn’t understand what he was saying, and had said that he hated teaching Atlanteans because they sounded like they had a stick up their asses.

Kaldur thought it was very unfortunate that he could not get past the English-learning block that he had developed in his next lesson with that instructor.

“Besides, I am tired of you talking to me when I am trying to sleep,” He dodges her punch, laughing at how red her face turned.

Lynx is graceful as she leads the way to the showers. There are no stalls in the communal area, and boys and girls showered together. He strips off his workout gear and lays it on a bench before twisting the dial to turn the shower on. The hot water feels amazing on his knotted muscles, and he takes a moment to just _stand_ there and let the water run down his back.

“Hey, fish boy, stop dreaming over there! We still have lessons today,” Lynx runs her hands through her hair, back turned to him, “Unless you’re dreaming about me. In that case, feel free to share.”

He ignores her, fighting the urge to remind her that they were still kids, that they shouldn’t even really be doing this. Sometimes, he felt tired, like he wanted to run away from all of this. He couldn’t, not when the Ivory Tower watched their every move. He bites down on the scream that wants to escape, and twists off the shower.

Lynx’s laugher follows him as he leaves the showers, “See you at lessons.”

In class, he fights back boredom as his instructor drones on about calculus. Science is a little better, and Lynx chucks a paper ball at his head when he starts to doodle in the margins of his notebook. He blinks at the drawing, and rakes his pencil through the Atlantean symbol he had marked on the paper, shame making his cheeks heat up. His mentor would be ashamed to see him doing something like that.

The team work out that night is rough with dirty sparring and dirtier words. Cobalt doesn’t hold back in his hits, and Chameleon blinks in and out of sight with throwing stars in her hands. Marksman grins from her perch in the rafters, out of reach until Kaldur pulls her down with his waterbearers. Lynx leaps over Kaldur, slamming into Marksman and knocking her out of the fight.

As Lynx rolls, Kaldur drives a knee into her gut, wrapping an arm around her neck. Her body stiffens as he sends a burst of electricity through her, “Sorry.”

Chameleon suddenly appears, her hands arching as she twitches the throwing stars towards him. He ducks, only to have Cobalt drive a fist into his back. The blow stuns him enough to let Chameleon leap forward, hands reaching to hit a series of pressure points. His limbs go numb, and he’s out of the fight before he knows it. He _hated_ it when Chameleon and Cobalt teamed up.

 “What happened to our team-up?” He ignores Lynx’s indignant yelp and stands slowly, fingers numb.

Cobalt and Chameleon high-five, pride scrawled across their faces, “Yes!”

“Good work, but it could be better,” Their group trainer says as she walks over. She’s all limbs and flowing movements, a tribute to her powers of flight. Kestrel tilts her head, “Cobalt, you lost control on some of your hits, and Chameleon, you could have taken out Marksman before she even went into the rafters.”

The blonde girl lowers her gaze, face turning red. Lynx throws a comforting arm around her shoulder, “Marksman, going into the rafters is fine, but only if you use the advantage. And if you avoid the fight every single time, your hand-to-hand will suffer.”

“As for you two,” Kestrel points at Lynx and Kaldur, “Lynx, sloppy takedown and even sloppier roll. No wonder Kraken managed to hit you. Kraken, you left yourself open when you avoided Chameleon’s attack.”

Kaldur dips his head at the criticism. Kestrel steps back, “Again.”

They gather that night to discuss their next mission. Kaldur sets the photo on the table, “This will not be easy.”

“Kord Industries has created a new type of body armor, called Smart Protection. The fabric is more bullet-proof than the material used by police and soldiers around the world. It can stop any bullet or knife, and can adapt to the body’s needs. The Ivory Tower wants it.”

“What’s the catch?” Marksman asks, “Come on, they never send us unless there’s something in their way that the smaller teams can’t handle.”

“It is guarded by the Justice League. As soon as Kord realized what he created, he asked for protection until he manages to sell it to someone,” Kaldur lays more photos down, “These heroes have been sighted so far. Blue Beetle, Wonder Woman, Black Canary, and Green Arrow.”

“Great, I’ve always wanted to meet them,” Cobalt smiles brightly, “Well, I know they’ll fight us, but they are pretty famous, you know?”

“Shut up,” Chameleon says irritably. Cobalt elbows her affectionately. Kaldur rolls his eyes at the interaction. They would end up together eventually, he would willingly place money at that. Lynx sighs dramatically, throwing her legs into Kaldur’s lap.

“Children, please,” She mocks in a poor imitation of his voice. Lynx stretches luxuriously, toes digging uncomfortably into him, “I bet you already have a plan.”

“Kord Industries gives school tours every Monday. Chameleon will go in as part of one, and conveniently get separated from the group. You will hide until closing, at which point, you will deactivate the alarms long enough for Lynx and I to slip inside. Marksman will be on the opposite roof, watching our progress. If something goes wrong, you will cover us from the outside while Cobalt goes in,” Kaldur’s mind is flying, contingencies flashing before his eyes, “We will need different plans of attack for each possible hero.”

“Where is the armor held?” Chameleon asks softly, cheeks going pink as everyone turns to look at her.

“The labs on the top floor, Kord’s personal workspace,” Kaldur replies, “I need ideas for Wonder Woman.”

“Wonder Woman fights better than all of us. The best attack is none. We would need a two-person attack. A heavy hitter would attack while I approached without her seeing,” Chameleon says immediately, “I always wanted to take out Wonder Woman.”

“Black Canary is mine,” Marksman announces, her finger twitching as if it were on a trigger, “She’ll be taken down from a distance.”

“Good, Green Arrow and Blue Beetle?” Kaldur pushes their pictures to the center, “Green Arrow’s hand-to-hand is weak. Lynx and I will do it.”

Cobalt leans back, “Blue Beetle armor and weapons are alien, right? So we use me and Kraken. We can take his attacks.”

“The floor layout is simple, but will need to be memorized in addition to building access codes,” Kaldur slaps the last few pages onto the table, “Start reading.”

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_October 21, 2006    00:41 GMT-3_ **

Kaldur’s first mentor is an Atlantean by the name of Viper. He is tall and lean, and has tattoos running over his arms that have nothing to do with Atlantean sorcery. The first thing he tells him is that he should forget his family and language, but not the sorcery that Atlanteans sang praises about.

He shapes him, first in sorcery, where he gives him tattoos and the power to make them worth something. They soon find out that Kaldur, although strong, does not have the power to become a master in the mystic arts. Viper takes that knowledge and uses it to create water bearers for Kaldur, so that he could still fight using all his resources. Kaldur views him as a father of sorts, and trusts him with his life.

One day, Viper goes on a misson. He does not come back.

Except now he is standing at the foot of his bed, face crawling with maggots. He rasps out a word, _“Killer.”_

Lynx slaps him awake, “Wake up, pretty boy! Come on, I’m the only one allowed to have nightmares here.”

She does not say anything when he turns on the light, just curls up next to him, body pressing against his. The knowledge of not being alone is enough to get him to fall asleep again, even if he can still see his mentor’s face looming in the darkness.

**_08:10 GMT-3_ **

They are supposed to leave in ten minutes, and Lynx has not yet come to the hangar. Kaldur sets down his bag and tells the others to finish getting ready. There is only one place she could be, knowing her. He hurries through the halls, hoping that he isn’t too late.

He is. Lynx is pacing Kestrel’s office, her lips pulled back to reveal her fangs, “And why should I not be allowed to honor my beliefs. I gave my life to this organization. The least you could do is let me have this one thing.”

“The point of coming here was to adopt a new life, a new family. You need to leave everything behind, Lynx,” Kestrel says patiently, “Please, just _stop.”_

“First of all, fu – “ Kaldur clears his throat before she can finish the sentence.

She whirls to face him, anger darkening her features, “I’ll be in the hangar.”

Kestrel rubs her temples after Lynx is gone, “Kraken, make her see sense. We have let it go so far, but if it continues, we will have no choice to terminate her. There are already some trainers who want to, but a few of us have advocated on her behalf.”

“If she does not stop, we will kill her, Kraken. She is dangerous, and we cannot have her ideas poisoning the minds of the younger recruits,” Kaldur nods and leaves, hissing out a curse. He had no hope of changing Lynx’s mind. He knew her too well.

**_Kord Industries_ **

**_October 21, 2006    22:30 EST_ **

The alarms blink off for ten seconds at 22:30 exactly. Lynx and Kraken slip inside and lock the door a second before the alarm blinks on again. She looks at him, the matte black of her cat suit blending into the darkness surrounding them. His own suit, brown and black, blends in just as easily as hers does.

“Go,” He hisses. Lynx disappears into the vents, leaving him to figure out a way to get to the fourteenth floor without climbing all those stairs.

He makes it to the top floor five minutes after Lynx does. Chameleon moves beside him, her figure ghosting in and out of view at random times, “Marksman?”

“ _I’ve got eyes on Black Canary,”_ She murmurs, _“Lab is empty otherwise. I don’t have a clear shot, but I can take her if you get her into the open.”_

_“Let’s go then, Kraken,”_ Lynx announces, “ _I’ve always wanted to fight this one.”_

Chameleon disappears a second before he kicks the door to the lab open. Black Canary twists to avoid his first swing, her fists lashing out in a ruthless combination of punches. The blows leave him stunned, and Lynx drops onto her shoulders, knives reaching for her throat. Black Canary sinks to her knees, throwing her off.

“Marksman,” He mutters, “The plan.”

_“On your own. Green Arrow is on our rooftop,”_ The panic in her voice is overwhelming.  Kraken nods and lashes out with his water bearers, a stream of water shooting for the woman. Black Canary nimbly avoids it, the look on her face almost amused at their attacks.

They had greatly overestimated their abilities and underestimated the heroes’ abilities. Black Canary is playing with them, almost. Judging by the accuracy of her blows, she could easily take them down if she really wanted to. He searches for a way out of this, and comes up with nothing.

 Lynx dances in front of them, a pair of throwing knives leaving her grip at the same time that she launches herself at the hero. Kraken moves a second later, his moves lining up with his partner’s. Lynx wraps her legs around Black Canary’s neck as Kraken drives his fists into her stomach.

And then he’s being thrown across the lab, his ears ringing from her scream. Lynx lands next to him, writhing uselessly on the ground. The window shatters behind them, glass falling to the ground below. His vision is bleeding black and red, and his ears can’t stop ringing. Black Canary relaxes her stance and approaches, pulling a pair of cuffs from her belt.

Chameleon flashes into view, a throwing star burying itself in Canary’s shoulder. Canary yelps, her hands flying to the wound. Kraken snaps, “Chameleon, go!”

The colors bleed out of her, and she’s gone before Canary can grab her. Lynx spins to her feet, eyes narrow and lips pulled back to expose her fangs. Kraken staggers to his feet, his stomach rolling at the movement. They attack together, and this time they move faster and quicker, trading off attacking her.

_“I’m a block away with the suit. She didn’t even notice me with you two fighting,”_ Chameleon suddenlt announces, _“I’ll proceed to the rendezvous point.”_

_“We’ve managed to evade Green Arrow, but Marksman is badly injured. I’m sorry, but you guys are on your own,”_ Cobalt says in a rush. Kraken doesn’t reply, too busy dodging an arrow from Green Arrow, who had entered via the broken window.

“Lynx,” He calls, “Railroad Crossing!”

Their phrase for switching fighting partners. Lynx slams into Green Arrow, knives flashing as she fights. Kraken whirls to face Black Canary, water bearers forming into a hammer and shield as he blocks her attack. They needed to escape now, before they couldn’t fight anymore.

Green Arrow yells as he’s thrown against a column, a knife buried in his chest. Lynx sways as she pulls out her gun and flicks off the safety, “Goodbye.”

Canary throws Kraken against the wall and twists, already screaming. The scream shatters every piece of glass in the lab and hits Lynx full on. Her eyes widen as she’s forced back, feet slipping over glass as she’s pushed towards the broken window. For a moment, she teeters on the edge.

And then she falls.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_October 24, 2006   17:00 GMT-3_ **

“Kraken, are you listening to me? You need to talk about her death,” The man, who Kaldur has chosen not to remember the name of, insists. He looks put together in a dress shirt and pants, a clipboard balanced on one knee.

Kaldur looks at the room instead of the man. The walls are a creamy white with a tan trim. A window set into the wall behind his _counselor_ opens onto a garden, one of the few to exist in the Ivory Tower. The garden is a burst of colors, with bunches of flowers overflowing into a pond. His fingers itch to rip the flowers from the ground, to destroy the pond and make a mess of this bright place.

“Kraken, focus on me, not on the pretty flowers!” Kraken almost punches the man, “You won’t be going back into the field until you – “

“I will take it from here,” A smooth voice interrupts. Its owner steps into view. It belongs to a woman with pale skin and hair as black as a raven’s wing.

“Director,” His counselor breathes, then stands and bows. Kaldur does the same, unable to take his eyes off her.

The Fairy Queen was the director of the facility. She was barely seen, and when she was, she usually brought a wave of bad news with her. Her eyes focus on him, and he is slightly entranced by the eerie gold that they are. Perhaps the oddest thing about her were the tattoos covering her entire body. Gold lines wrapped around her entire body, exposed by the sheer dress that she wore.

“Dismissed, Counselor,” She says absentmindedly, and sits in the now-empty chair. Kaldur takes a step back when she waves a hand in his direction. She smiles kindly, “Sit, my child.”

“You are in mourning,” It is a statement, “I understand that. You lost your partner, your other half. She and you were meant to fight the world together.”

Her next question makes him lose his breath, “Tell me, _Kaldur’ahm,_ do you want to kill the Black Canary for this? Do you want to watch the Justice League burn?”

“Yes,” He chokes out as soon as he gets his breath back, “They took Lynx from me. They should die – “

The slap knocks him out of the chair. The Fairy Queen leans back in her chair, “You are a child. You are stupid.”

She continues to talk as he presses a hand to his bleeding mouth, “We could never win against the _heroes_. They probably did not intend to kill her, but they forgot that she was a child, that she would react differently. To start a war with them would be suicide.”

“Then why are we doing this?” The question bursts out of him before he can stop it. For a moment, he cringes back, expecting another blow, but only finds that the woman has relaxed even more.

“Kraken, I am sure you have realized that the world is ugly. Us, the humans, we destroy it. So many people have tried to change this, but heroes like Justice League keep getting in their way,” The Fairy Queen says, “That’s why I founded the Ivory Tower. The next generation will be the ones to save the world.”

“We cannot defeat the Justice League directly, but we can show that they are worthless. That they cannot do their job. That there are others in the world who can do a better job,” The Fairy Queen hands him a tissue, “And when the Justice League is betrayed by their own world, we will be there to seize it.”

“I understand,” He says slowly. There is something burning inside of him, something that is consuming him whole.

“So, tell me, Kraken, what do you wish to do to the League?” The Fairy Queen asks, “Do you want to watch them burn? Kill them? Join them?”

Lynx is reaching for him, her face a mask of horror as she realizes that he cannot reach her in time. There are screams echoing in his ears, first hers and then his own, and finally a sickening crunch as her body hits the asphalt. Black Canary, her face a mask of horror as she realized what she had done. But she had not moved when Lynx had been falling, had not stopped her scream. Kaldur looks at the garden again, and thinks that it would look so ugly in the winter.

“At the current moment? Nothing, nothing at all,” Kaldur finally says.

The Fairy Queen smiles, and he knows he will see her face in his nightmares tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter Two_ **

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_March 23, 2007   07:00 UTC-3_ **

Miranda wakes slowly, mind fuzzy with the last dregs of her dream. Her robe, made of silk, scratches against her skin when she slides it on, and she makes a note to buy one made of a better-quality cloth when she goes into town tomorrow. The gold on her hands gleam in the early-morning sun when she steps into her garden, and she caresses a drooping flower with her palm, smiling softly when it begins to perk up.

“Madam Fairy Queen – Miss Fairy Queen? I mean – well, excuse me, madam,” The flower dies as her mood drops. One of her scientists stands awkwardly at the entrance to her garden, tablet clutched against her chest like it could protect her, “I need to speak to you about one of the Ivory Tower’s operatives.”

“It’s important enough to interrupt my morning, Scientist?” The name is an insult, and the scientist knows it. Her cheeks flush, eyebrows raising as she clenches her jaw. The woman steps into the garden, a courageous move considering Miranda’s powers.

“Head of the division actually, and my name is Maria,” She earns a little bit of respect, then, “And it concerns Kraken, the leader of our best team.”

“Since the death of his partner, Kraken has been acting abnormal. His leadership skills have all but disappeared, and he fights like he has a death wish. On the team’s last mission, Cobalt broke his leg taking a hit for Kraken. A hit that could have been avoided if Kraken had been in the right headspace,” Maria hands her the tablet, stats rolling across the screen.

Miranda reads the data, “Your point, Miss Maria?”

“You advocated for Kraken to not be re-matched, but I believe that he needs a partner. He needs someone to keep him in check. At first, I thought that his teammates would help him through, but they do not have the same mindset,” Maria says bitterly, “It’s a waste of talent.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Miranda sighs, wishing desperately for coffee, “If you came here without a suggestion – “

“He’s at another institute. They call it Cadmus – “ Maria pauses, “And he’s Atlantean.”

“Denied,” The answer is immediate and harsh. To have Kraken partner with another of his kind was dangerous and unpredictable. There was a reason why she required all operatives to be isolated. Loyalty to their heritage, or culture, or whatever the fuck you called it, was a dangerous thing she wouldn’t allow in the Ivory Tower.

Her scientist squares her shoulders, “I put in the request already, and Kraken has been notified that he will have a roommate soon. Forgive me, madam, but if we don’t re-match him, I will have him terminated.”

Maria freezes as Miranda grabs her hand, skin pale as she sinks to her knees. Wrinkles were forming around her eyes and mouth, “Do not act like you have control here.”

“Yes,” Maria gasps out, “I’m sorry, but the transfer is final. Please, I just don’t want him to be wasted.”

She lets go and turns away, “Fine, play your game with the children. If it goes wrong, I will have your head mounted to one of my office walls.”

“Don’t you want to know his name?” Maria calls after her. Miranda ignores her, but she keeps talking anyway, “They call him Kappa. He’s drowned two of his handlers.”

“Good, they’re not worth anything if they don’t have any fight in them,” She laughs until Maria’s footsteps fade away, back to whatever hole she worked in.

Miranda grimaces at the dead flower and yanks it free, crushing it with one hand. _Children._ They were so easily manipulated. She had expected the boy to be difficult, but not _that_ difficult. This one cared about his team too much. He would need to be watched, to be carefully turned towards the cause, not away.

She would hate to have to kill him.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_March 25, 2007     05:00 UTC-3_ **

Kaldur does not blame himself for Lynx’s death. He doesn’t, okay?

The water is cool against his skin as he dives into the water, sound fading and twisting as his body adapts to the water. His muscles burn as he pushes himself to go faster, to go longer. He needs to get stronger, so that he could take down the Canary and her partner.

Halfway through his next lap, his shoulder pops. His vision flashes white, and he wakes up at the bottom of the pool, water moving sluggishly through his gills. He can’t make himself move, and he can’t think of a reason to actually try. He hadn’t moved when Lynx had started fall, and he wouldn’t move now.

Something sour bubbles at the back of his throat, a hysterical thing that makes him scrabble at the white floor of the pool. He kept hearing the way her body had smacked the pavement. Until then, he hadn’t known that a body could make a noise like that.

If she was here, she would yell at him for being so stupid. But she wasn’t, and for a second he plays with the idea of escaping the facility and tracking down the Canary. It was a half-assed idea, and his team would kill him if he tried. Then again, they could use a better leader anyway.

Kaldur opens his mouth and screams, the water swallowing up the sound.

A scientist is waiting for him when he surfaces, her tablet pressed against her chest, “Kraken, get dressed. You’re meeting someone.”

“Any specific uniform?” He rasps out. His throat aches from his scream.

The scientist quirks an eyebrow, “Standard mission uniform.”

She leads him to a lab after he reluctantly tugs on his uniform. A boy sits on an exam table. He’s tan, with dark hair and the lightest dusting of freckles that he has ever seen. When he sees him, he goes to get up, but the man standing next to him holds up a hand.

“Sorry,” He says forlornly. The boy tilts his head back, a smirk slowly beginning to stretch across his face as he looks at him, “At – “

The man presses down on a remote, electricity arcing out of the collar the boy wore. The scientist hisses out a breath, “Remove the collar.”

“He’ll kill everyone here if I do,” The man snaps at her. The scientist nods at Kaldur, and he wraps his hands around the man’s arm, eel tattoos glowing as he activated his powers.

The boy is in a heap on the ground, only moving when Kaldur yanks his collar off. He stands slowly, “Thanks for that.”

And then he moves, lashing out at the man. A rib cracks, and then a wrist before Kaldur can knock him back to the ground, “Stand. Down.”

“Told you,” The man groans, “He’s all yours. I’m leaving.”

The lab falls silent after he leaves. Kaldur waits for someone to say something, but the scientist says nothing. Finally, the boy speaks, “I’m Kappa.”

Kaldur glares at the boy’s outstretched arm. Kappa takes the hint and scrambles to his feet,  twitching impatiently. Kaldur says one word, “Kraken.”

The scientist huffs, “Kraken, this is Kappa. He is your new partner.”

His heart stops for a moment, and then he is turning towards the door, “No.”

“Yes, today, you will start to work with him. This is not a request, this is an order,” The scientist insists, “There is no choice in this matter. You have an hour to prep, and then you two will fight. Kraken, go get ready. Kappa, stay here.”

Kaldur stalks out of the room.

* * *

 

Kestrel is pacing the room when Kaldur comes back, “No, this is stupid. They will kill each other.”

“Be calm, Kestrel. They’ll be fine. You worry too much,” The scientist says with a grin, “Kraken, please, take your place on the mat.”

He steps onto the mat, bare feet sinking into the light padding. Kappa stares at him from the other side with a pair of sticks hanging from his belt. Kaldur falls into a loose stance and waits as Kappa slowly slides into a stance of his own.

“Listen up you two! No one dies, and no one tries to kill the other. No mutilation, no serious injury, no permanent injury! Kraken, I swear I will kill you if you throw this fight. Kappa, I’ll send you back to your previous handlers in a box if you kill Kraken. Am I understood?” Kestrel looks sternly at the two of them.

“Yes,” Kaldur says grudgingly as Kappa nods. Kestrel steps back and raises a hand, the word “begin” forming on her lips.

Kappa is already moving. He leaps across the mat without a sound, and goes to punch him. Kaldur ducks under the swing and brings a knee up, only just grazing Kappa’s stomach before the boy spins and drives a knee of his own into Kaldur’s side. Kaldur grunts as he grabs the knee and yanks.

His opponent falls, only to somehow roll and be back up before Kaldur can do anything. The act makes him frown, because he can only be reminded of Lynx. They had chosen someone with the same skills as Lynx, and the thought burns him as he drives his fists into Kappa’s chest in a series of quick combinations. The boy stumbles back, and Kaldur pulls his water bearers out, water snapping into swords.

“Huh, I’ve got a trick like that,” Kappa gasps as he grabs the sticks from his belt. The blades in them snap out with a sharp twist of his wrists.

Despite himself, Kaldur smiles at the cocky smirk on the other boy’s face. He raises his swords, and waits. Kappa attacks with a yell, his blades crashing against Kaldur’s. Kaldur blocks him and pushes him back, advancing slowly.

“Oh, come on, Atlantean boy! Don’t you want to fight me? You must have lost a partner for them to bring me here. Aren’t you angry? Do you want to kill me for what they did to your partner?” Kappa laughs mockingly.

Kaldur shouts in anger and attacks recklessly. Kappa steps to the side, driving a kick into his back. He has already fallen into a stance by the time Kaldur recovers. The sight of it makes him pause. That was an Atlantean battle pose. He could remember his father training in the garden when he had been very young. It couldn’t be possible, could it?

Kappa throws himself at Kaldur, but Kaldur ducks under the attack and throws him to the ground, arm pressed against his throat. He hisses out the word, “ _Atlantean.”_

The boy starts laughing, and only stops to choke out a few words, “I yield.”

Anger and a little bit of shame rushes through him as he leaves the room, “I accept him as my partner.”

* * *

****

It is late when Kaldur returns to his room. He stumbles to a halt at the sight of Kappa in _Lynx’s_ bed, fists clenching. The other boy raises an eyebrow, “Oh, hey.”

“Shut up,” Kaldur grumbles as he shrugs off his uniform. The boy whistles at the sight of his tattoos and murmurs a word in Atlantean.

The language is so unfamiliar for him that it takes him a second to switch his brain back to Atlantean. The word leaves him confused enough that he can’t respond as he pulls on the loosest shirt he can find. Kappa snorts, “No Atlantean. You aren’t curious? Nice tats, by the way. You must have had an Atlantean trainer at one point.”

“I – “ Kaldur sucks in a breath. Fuck it, “Yes, I am curious.”

Kappa pulls up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing a stripe of scales running up his arm, “Dad was Atlantean, mom was from Florida. She named me Ryan.”

He waits for Kaldur to give his own name, only to get silence, “Uh, okay. My dad and mom raised me until I was seven, when Cadmus kidnapped me.”

 “In the Ivory Tower, it is not allowed for us to speak our own language, honor our beliefs, or remember the past. The Ivory Tower encourages us to form a family from the people in the tower, not stay in the past,” The speech is mechanical.

“Sounds like a cult,” Kappa – no, Ryan, snorts, “What’s your name?”

“Kraken,” Kaldur insists as he sits on his bed. Ryan looks at him pointedly, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. There’s something about the stare that forces Kaldur to speak, “My name was Kaldur’ahm.”

“Still is, even if they gave you a different one. What?” Ryan asks as Kaldur turns away, “Kaldur’ahm, what’s wrong?”

“Do not call me that,” Kaldur says harshly, “It is late, we need to go to sleep.”

He snaps off the light and burrows under the covers, eyes prickling with something that definitely wasn’t tears. For a second, he had sounded like Lynx.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_March 27, 2007    09:00 UTC-3_ **

Kappa meets the rest of the team after a day of shadowing Kaldur. And by shadowing, Kaldur meant that Kappa had followed him around asking incessant questions and chattering nonstop. He had talked during his morning swim routine, during sparring, during every single meal break. He was five seconds away from taping his mouth shut just to get some quiet.

That wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was the Atlantean. The boy had a habit of switching into Atlantean whenever they were alone, and would talk until Kaldur reminded him that speaking Atlantean was against the rules of the Ivory Tower. It had gotten to a point that Kaldur barely noticed the switch in languages, and had caught himself responding in the same language twice.

“Who are these people again?” Kappa asks as Kaldur leads him to the common area.

Kaldur groans, having explained this a dozen times, “Your teammates.”

“I thought you were my teammate?” He’s sure that Kappa is doing this just to annoy him.

“Just, be quiet,” His head is hurting.

His team falls quiet when they enter the room. Chameleon and Marksman stand, and Cobalt straightens his spine despite the bandages still on his leg. Marksman eyes Kappa, her eyes questioning, “Kraken, explain.”

“Meet Kappa. He will be joining our team as my new partner,” And the room erupts into argument.

It’s Chameleon’s screech that silences them, “You’re _replacing_ Lynx?”

Kaldur shakes his head, his temper flaring. They were his team, yes, but they hadn’t been Lynx’s partner. They hadn’t trained for hours with her, hadn’t heard her nightmares or have her listen to theirs. Lynx was gone and it was like he was gone too. He couldn’t take the emptiness anymore.

“I am not replacing Lynx, and do not ever suggest that again. However, I need a partner, as I am sure all of you have realized over the past few months. Our team also has a hole in it that needs to be filled,” Kaldur says angrily.

Marksman snorts, “Feels a lot like a replacement.”

“A little bit,” Kappa suddenly chimes in and Kaldur resists the urge to fight him.

“Kraken, you aren’t forgetting Lynx, are you?” Cobalt’s voice is soft and sad, “She was my friend.”

“Never,” He promises without hesitation. The room falls silent for a moment until Kaldur gathers the courage to say what he needed to say, “I would like to apologize to you all for having to deal with my poor leadership. I have not been the same since Lynx’s death, and it is going to take some time for me to be the leader that I should be.”

“Apology accepted. Heck, my leg is almost healed anyway,” Cobalt tries to sound light as he speaks, but fails completely.

Kaldur looks at them, his team. Chameleon, for once, is completely visible, her eyes red with unshed tears. Cobalt is still kind despite Kaldur’s failures, and it shows as he wraps a hand around Chameleon’s wrist in a silent show of support. Marksman’s jaw is set, her face unreadable as she watches him. Kappa fidgets beside him, and suddenly he knows what to do.

“Card game night! Chameleon, do you still have that bottle of vodka?”  From the way her face lights up, Kaldur knows she does.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_March 27, 2007       10:29 UTC-3_ **

Fun fact: Atlanteans couldn’t get hangovers from surface-world alcohol.

Or, that was what he had thought.

Kaldur wakes to a splitting headache and dry gills. A groan from the opposite room tells him that Kappa fared no better. Okay, maybe the government was right to ban teenage drinking. The last thing he remembered from last night was losing a round of poker and owing Cobalt his chocolate ration for the next week. Fuck.

“By the gods,” Kappa rasps, except it’s not in English. Kaldur is too tired to make his brain translate his words into English.

He stands shakily, “Get up, we have training in thirty minutes.”

“Now you speak Atlantean? Can’t we skip?” Neither of them seems willing to switch back into English.

“No,” The reluctance with which he switches back into English surprises him, “Unless you want to get in trouble, I suggest you follow me.”

Kappa rolls over, then falls out of bed. Kaldur chokes back laughter at the sight of him struggling to escape his blankets, “Stop laughing! It’s not funny.”

When Kappa finally untangles himself, it’s to reveal a bare chest and boxers. Inexplicably, Kaldur feels his cheeks grow warm, and he busies himself with making his bed as Kappa scavenges for a shirt in the small pile of things he had brought with him.

“Later, we will get you some more clothes,” Kaldur tells him as they walk to the cafeteria. His headache has begun to fade, and he wonders if Atlanteans have a faster recovery rate than the surface-worlders.

Surface-worlders.

When had he started to think that way again? He hadn’t thought of being Atlantean in years, yet two days with Kappa had started to change him. Kaldur shakes off his nerves and slides a tray to Kappa. His team looks as hungover as Kaldur had felt, and he can’t hide the smirk that forms when they cringe at the sound of his tray banging against the table.

“Rough morning?” He asks innocently.

Marksman drops her head against the table and groans, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Well, I’m glad to see your team is bonding, Kraken,” Kestrel appears above them and sniffs, “Even if it is through alcohol.”

“Everyone here is hungover. Kraken and Kappa, with me. You two are the most sober,” Kestrel says disgustedly.

In the briefing room, she slides them files, “Your first mission.”

“We have not trained as a partnership yet,” Kaldur murmurs as he flips through the file, “This is complicated for a first mission.”

“No, it’s not. Steal something, assassinate a scientist,” Kappa sets his file down with a boyish grin.

Kestrel leans back in her chair, “Well, Kraken, I think you’ve been voted down.”

**_Gotham City_ **

**_March 29, 2007    01:00 EDT_ **

Kraken watches as Kappa slides onto the roof, falling easily into a roll. For a second, he envies the smooth grace of the boy, until he sees him stumble on the gravel. Kraken stifles his laughter, instead going to the roof access of the building and breaking the lock.

“Wayne Enterprises will know we are here from the moment we open the door. We have five minutes to finish this mission before the police arrive,” Kraken reminds Kappa.

“Yeah, I got that,” Without warning, Kappa kicks the door open, setting off the alarm, “Oops.”

The urge to yell at the boy is overwhelming, but Kraken follows him as they sprint down the stairs. Kraken breaks the door to the twelfth floor open and promptly ducks down as a guard opens fire. Kappa leaps over him, yanking one of Kraken’s waterbearers free. He whips water at the guard, slamming him against the wall.

“You have training in sorcery,” Kraken grabs his water bearer, “Not much, by the looks of it.”

Kappa shrugs, his eyes shadowed. The gold on his suit gleams in the light, and suddenly Kraken wonders about what Cadmus had done to him, “It didn’t take.”

All of his cheer is gone as he leads the way to the labs. Kraken guards the door while Kappa retrieves the device. His partner nods to him as he tucks it into his belt, and lets Kraken take the lead as they go further into the labs.

Their target is the head of the Wayne Research division, who had recently begun work on a collar that could inhibit abilities. He was known for staying late to work on the device, and had begun to talk about a major breakthrough in his research.

“Doctor Melvin, so nice to see you,” Kappa calls out to the scientist as they enter the lab.

The scientist in question scrambles back, a scalpel in one hand, “Please, I have a family.”

“I am sorry,” Kraken admits as he drives his sword through the scientist’s heart. The man’s eyes are still open, and they stare into his soul even after the light dies away.

Kappa pulls him back, and together they race out of the building. A shadow is waiting for them on the rooftop, one that slings a batarang at them as soon as they appear. Kraken frowns at the shadow, who wore a bat costume?

Kappa seems to recognize him, “Oh, shit. Kraken, run.”

Without warning, he throws smoke pellets down as the shadow leaps at them. In the smoke, Kappa grabs his hand and tugs him across the rooftops, sprinting. He pants out an explanation as he runs, “Name is Batman, and he’s the only one who can control Gotham. He’s taken Superman in a fight.”

Kraken twists and blocks another batarang. He pulls an explosive from his belt and throws it at the man, then turns to follow Kappa. He could tell they were nearing the docks when the buildings began to transform into warehouses. Over his comm, he hears Kappa groan.

“The water is disgusting here, but it’s our only chance of escaping Batman,” Kraken doesn’t respond, too busy dodging a net. They had no chance of getting to the water unless they manage to get more distance between them and the vigilante.

“On three, throw something at him,” Kraken huffs out, “One….two…three.”

Kappa skids to a stop, knives flashing as he throws them at Batman. As the man dodges, Kraken slings as much water as he can manage at Batman, enough to push him off the roof. Kappa crows in excitement even as Kraken pushes him to keep running.

The docks are in sight when the batarang lands in front of them. A shadow detaches itself from the roof of the warehouse, “Stand down.”

“Or what?” Kappa calls back, all of his cheer suddenly gone.

Batman doesn’t answer, only shifts. Kraken swears as more batarangs embed themselves into the walls of the buildings surrounding them. He tries to be diplomatic, “Our business in Gotham is done. We have no fight with you.”

“Except you just stole something and murdered a very important person,” Batman apparently had the ability to sound like a disapproving father, great.

Kraken backs up as Batman drops onto a wooden platform. His partner looks at him, the eyes of his mask wide, “How many smoke pellets do you have left?”

He looks delighted to hear Atlantean, “Enough to cover our exit. Tell me when.”

“Now,” Kraken slashes at the legs of the platform, sending it toppling to the ground as smoke fills the air.

By the time Batman is on his feet, Kraken and Kappa are pounding across the wood of the dock. A batarang slices through the air as they dive into the water. Kraken cringes as the polluted water filters through his gills, the murky water almost impossible to see in as they swim away.

Thirty minutes later, they climb out of the water somewhere on the edge of Gotham. Kappa gags and spits out water as Kraken does his best to wipe away any sludge on his gills. As soon as Kappa’s throat is clear, he starts laughing.

“What is wrong with you?” Kraken hisses, “Stop laughing!”

“We just escaped one of the most dangerous vigilantes out there. Oh my gosh, Kaldur, we just escaped the goddamn Batman!” Kappa chokes out. His hysteria is infectious, and soon Kraken finds himself laughing too.

He’s still laughing when Kappa kisses him. Kraken falls still, unable to understand. Kappa steps back, lips pressed together in a frown, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that – “

Kraken shuts him up by kissing him. Somewhere, a dog howls, but all Kraken can sense is the feel of Kappa’s lips against his own, and the noise the other boy makes when Kraken tugs on his hair. Suddenly, Kraken didn’t feel so lonely.

They break apart with a gasp. Kraken can’t hold back his smile, “So this is what it takes to get you to shut up?”

He’s answered with another kiss.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_June 21, 2007  12:03 UTC-3_ **

The Fairy Queen’s peace is a treasured thing to her, since she never has a second to herself. It’s the reason why she has to stop herself from killing the scientist woman when she knocks on the door to her office. She sweeps a lazy hand at the door, the flower in the vase to her right wilting.

“Enter, Scientist,” At this point, the Fairy Queen is only calling her “Scientist” to hear the annoyed huff that she makes.

“Maria,” Her scientist reminds her, “And we have a problem with the new boy.”

The Fairy Queen twirls a pen, “Kappa, Kraken’s partner.”

“He and Kraken have become intimate,” Maria sneers, “I’m worried that this is going to become a problem.”

“You’re failing to see the big picture, Miss Scientist,” She rises from her seat, “Kraken has a reason to stay here. He has a reason to love this place now.”

“And what if Kappa dies like his last partner? What then? Do you really think Kraken will stay?” Maria fires back.

The Fairy Queen walks around the desk and leans close to Maria, “I think he’ll want to do anything I say after that.”

“You’re fucking crazy, aren’t you?” Maria spits out. The Fairy Queen only looks at her innocently.

“How do you think an organization like this begins?” She asks, “No one normal would do this. Why the hell do you experiment on little kids?”

The scientist leaves without answering.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_June 29, 2007    23:30 UTC-3_ **

Lynx is teetering on windowsill. Her eyes are bright as she screams out for him. Kaldur takes one step, and then she falls from sight. Despite himself, he can’t help but take those last few steps towards the edge of the window. He looks out, and almost loses his balance from shock.

Ryan stares up at him, his body crumpled from the impact.

“Kaldur, wake up,” Ryan whispers as he shakes him. He dodges Kaldur’s punch, speaking urgently in Atlantean.

Slowly, he realizes where he is, and he sags in defeat. Atlantean and English mix in his sentence, and he can’t figure out how to stop it, “I was dreaming.”

“No, you were screaming,” Ryan corrects him as he flicks on the lights, “My name, and Lynx’s.”

Kaldur stares up at the ceiling, his heart racing. This was not the first time that this had happened. Ryan had woken him from his dreams before, but it had never been Ryan on the asphalt below. It had always been Lynx, never anyone else. Kaldur sucks in a breath as he shivers.

“Hey, hey, Kaldur, look at me. You’re awake now,” Ryan slides into bed next to him, his warmth a solid presence. It’s not enough. He wants to get out of here, escape this place and never look back.

Ryan hits the floor with a thud as Kaldur leaps out of bed, hands fumbling to slide on a shirt. This room was too small for him to breathe in. It wasn’t fair! Lynx was dead, and her killers were still out there. Worse still, he wasn’t strong enough to defeat them even if he had the chance.

A hand grips his forearm and yanks him back, “Kaldur, use your words. What the fuck is going on?”

“I need – “ He spits out a curse and starts over in English, “I need to get out of here.”

He pulls himself free and leaves, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors of the hallway. Ryan catches up to him after his third turn and tries to stop him. Kaldur grunts and slams his shoulder into the other boy’s, only to find that he’s moved. A sharp kick leaves him sprawled on the floor, and then Ryan is on top of him.

“Stop fighting me, you asshole,” Kaldur tries to punch him again, and finds that his hands are pinned, “Alright, you want to go outside, the fine, we’ll go out. Just calm down before we get caught, okay?”

Five seconds pass, then, “Fine.”

Ryan leads him pass the gardens and buildings, stepping into the woods at the back of the property. He shushes him when he asks where they’re going, and Kaldur bites back a growl. Wind rustles through the trees, bringing a snap of cold with it. The cold clears his mind, but then it reminds him of Atlantis, and he feels sick with longing.

They stop at the edge of a lake, “Ryan, why are we here?”

“When I was at Cadmus, they brought in an Atlantean to train me in sorcery. It turns out that I was shit at sorcery, but I did learn a few things,” Ryan kneels, hands brushing the water.

The water turns brighter as it swirls around his hands, and it ripples out over the lake until it looks like the entire lake is glowing. Ryan toes off his shoes and steps into the water, “My father took me to Atlantis once. All I remember is the water glowing because of all the light.”

“It’s – “ Kaldur sucks in a breath, because the homesickness is overwhelming.

Atlantis was four years and thousands of miles away, when his mother was still alive and he still saw his father every day. A hundred bodies stood between him and his home, and he would never go back. His people would hate him for what he had become: a murderer, a yellow-haired demon.

The rock splashes into the water. Ryan still has his arm stretched out, his eyes fixed firmly on Kaldur’s, “This is the cleanest water we’ve got. It’s not Gotham sewage and it’s not chlorinated.”

Without waiting for an answer, he strips down to his undershorts and walks in. The water around him shifts through a rainbow of colors, and when he’s deep enough, he dives in. The wind kicks up again, and he closes his eyes as the leaves of the trees rustle.

And then the water splashes him in the face.

“Come on, drama queen,” It’s enough for him to yank off his shirt and step in.

Ryan dives back under, and he laughs as Kaldur swims out to meet him. Bubbles fly around them as Kaldur leans in to kiss him, and the world flashes bright with color. Ryan draws back and grins, “Better?”

“Yes,” The water swirls around them, and suddenly, Kaldur can breathe again.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_June 30, 2007    00:14 UTC-3_ **

They try to sneak back in at midnight, after a patrol has already gone through the halls. They’re a little punch drunk, Ryan breaking into giggles every five seconds and Kaldur choking back a chuckle whenever he bumps into the other boy. They were trained to act as spies and assassins, but they made enough noise to convince anyone who heard them that they were nothing more than kids trying to sneak past unforgiving parents.

Kestrel is waiting for them in the common room, eyes filled with disappointment, “You two waste your training.”

The rest of their team is gathered behind her, the glint of coins, candy wrappers, and bottles catching Kaldur’s eyes as various bets are lost and won. He sees Chameleon pocket a small bottle of liquor, and knows that she’ll save it for when the nightmares become too much to handle.

“You’ll be punished for sneaking out, of course, but later. Right now, you have a mission,” Kestrel tosses a thick envelope to him, “Meet me on the tarmac in an hour. Full mission gear for an escort. Don’t be late.”

“We will discuss the mission on the plane. Spend this time collecting the gear you need,” He says after Kestrel leaves. Ryan follows him into their room, already sliding off his clothes, “You have questions.”

“Escort?” He asks, “I mean, I get it, but why?”

Kaldur spends a moment thinking, packing a uniform into his duffel bag as he does, “We do not always kill. Sometimes, our researchers need to be moved to a new location without police or hero detection, or a valuable shipment needs to be watched.”

“Still illegal,” Ryan muses, turning to Kaldur as he slides off his shirt.

Kaldur clears his throat, the heat on his face a distraction as he pulls on his uniform. Ryan breathes out a laugh, clearly amused by Kaldur’s reaction. They spend the rest of the hour in silence, Kaldur doing his best not to look at Ryan until the heat in his body had died away.

The airplane that is waiting for them is a jet, an expensive one by the looks of it. Whoever or whatever they were escorting was worth a lot. Kestrel appraises them with sharp eyes as they enter the plane, her hair pulled back from her face in a tight bun.

“I’ll be taking a nap. Don’t wake me up,” She disappears into the next room.

The rest of them settle into the chairs, swiveling them to face each other as soon as the plane reaches cruising altitude. Kaldur spreads the papers out, “Alright, we are picking up a very large shipment for Lex Luthor, well escorting Luthor to pick up the shipment.”

Cobalt spits out the water he had been drinking, “No shit?”

“Are you serious?” Marksman asks, voice rising in anger, “To kill fucking Superman?”

“Escort,” Chameleon reminds her with a whisper.

Marksman doesn’t seem to be calmed, “To eventually kill Superman with!”

“Why does it matter? We’re criminals, and we won’t actually be killing him,” Kappa asks curiously.

Marksman hisses out an insult and reaches for him, hands clawing for his face. Cobalt pulls her back before she does, but he can’t stop her words, “Killing people is one thing, but killing heroes? Or enabling someone to kill them? That’s crossing a line.”

“One of those heroes killed Lynx,” Kaldur surprises himself with the sentence, “They are no better than us.”

No one says anything after that. He shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have even brought Lynx up, but they had been naïve once before when facing the heroes, and had paid for it with the death of his partner. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“The plan?” Chameleon reminds them, examining her fingers as they slowly begin to shift to match the colors of the plane.

“Yes,” Kaldur shuffles the papers, “This is what we know.”

Kappa leans into his space as he speaks, making Kaldur struggle to stay focused. He pulls back, ignoring the betrayed look Kappa sends his way, and finishes outlining the plan. It isn’t his best work, but considering the small amount of information they were given, no one could expect him to think of a better one.

**_Metropolis_ **

**_June 29, 2007     13:24 EDT_ **

Lex Luthor was an ugly man for someone called handsome. He was tall, with a nice face that was pulled into a sneer more often than not. The sneer deepens as he looks at them, lines creasing into his forehead and making him seem like the corrupt businessman he truly was.

“Which one of you children is the leader?” Kraken bristles at the comment and steps forward.

“I am. You asked for an escort, which we will be happy to provide,” Lex Luthor seems delighted at the sting in Kraken’s voice.

Luthor turns away, gesturing for them to follow, “I need to pick up this kryptonite without Superman interrupting me. I don’t need an escort. What I need is a distraction.”

“You asked for an escort, not for us to go against one of the most powerful men in the world,” Kraken hisses, “We did not come prepared for that.”

“Then I’ll take my business elsewhere, and you can explain to your handlers why I no longer work with them,” The threat is a good one, and Kraken doesn’t dare to anger his handlers.

“Fine, you will tell us everything, all the information you have, and give us the time we need to develop a _new_ plan that will fit yours,” Kraken pauses, “And you will give each of us a fragment of kryptonite, so that we at least have a chance.”

“Done,” Luthor says firmly, “But I can only give you until midnight for the plan. The pick-up is at two.”

From behind them, Marksman snorts, “Please, that’s more than enough time.”

**_Downtown Metropolis_ **

**_July 30, 2007       01:58 EDT_ **

Cobalt shatters the glass door to the bank with a single punch a second before Chameleon streaks past him, leaping over the counters and disabling the alarm system. It’s too late to avoid alerting the police, but it’ll buy them some time.

“Pay day,” He says gleefully, looking strange in his stealth uniform. Cobalt was never one for stealth, and Kraken couldn’t remember the last time he had seen him wear it. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he had worn his either.

They head to the vault, Chameleon already setting off the charges as they get there. This is why Kraken likes her so much. She moved twice as fast as them despite her lack of speed powers. Cobalt pushes the door open and gets to work, stuffing the bag he was holding with cash and jewels from the deposit boxes.

“Freeze!” They turn slowly, the guard clicking the safety of his gun off, “Hands where I can see them!”

“Sorry,” Kraken says as Chameleon ghosts into view, plunging a needle into the side of the guard’s neck. He nods to Cobalt, “We have enough, let’s go.”

They stumble to a stop as they see what’s waiting for them outside. Superman is standing there, arms crossed, looking like the disapproving boy scout that everyone knows and loves, “I would drop the money if I were you.”

“But you’re not,” Kappa melts out of the shadows, flicking open the catch on the lead case. Superman cringes at the sight of the Kryptonite, lines furrowing into his brow, “And we like the cash.”

Kraken eases his water bearers out of their holsters at the sight of police lights, “We need to move.”

“One minute. I like this,” Kappa is too good at playing his part, “Besides, we can take them.”

Cobalt laughs, “Told you he was a wild card. Come on, let’s leave him. We got the cash.”

“Leave and I close the box, let Superman take us all out,” Kappa says dangerously. The police cars swerve to a stop, car doors open and police yelling at them. Kappa slides a gun from its holster and presses it against Superman’s head, “Bang.”

One of the policemen is too quick to fire, and his finger pulls on the trigger. Kraken moves, knocking Kappa out of the way and taking the bullet meant for him in his own shoulder. The kryptonite flies out of Kappa’s hands, far enough away that Superman doesn’t feel its effects.

He swears, and sends enough electricity through his tattoos to fry a man. Superman flinches, but he does not fall. Kraken mutters the name despite the knowledge that Superman has enhanced hearing, “Marksman.”

_“On it,”_ Twin shots ring out, hitting two policemen in the head. Three more fall, all hit by bullets shot from different angles. Remote-controlled guns and Marksman had always mixed well.

Superman is torn between them and the policemen. He shakes his head finally, and flies off to find the source of the shots. A ping from Kraken’s comm unit lets him know that Luthor has retrieved the kryptonite. Together, the team turns as one, fading into the shadows.

**_Metropolis Airport_ **

**_July 30, 2007   04:03 EDT_ **

Kraken bites down a scream as Chameleon digs into his shoulder with a pair of tweezers. She tugs one last time, and the bullet comes out. Quickly, she presses a gauze pad to the wound, blood soaking it while she threads a needle.

“You’ll live,” She says simply, tying off the last suture, “Even though you’re an idiot.”

His team is angry at him, he knows, but they can fuck off. He hadn’t seen Kappa being shot, he had seen Lynx falling to her death. He wouldn’t – couldn’t – let another of his partners die. He sags against the leather of the jet seat, eyes sliding closed for one second.

He wakes as the plane shudders to a stop on the Ivory Tower’s runway. Kaldur slowly gets up, letting his Kraken persona melt away. His team brushes past him, Marksman stopping to help him off the plane. She tilts her head towards him.

“Talk to him, or you’ll be getting a new partner much sooner than you’d like,” She warns, “Enjoy giving your report.”

Kestrel chews him out, and promises that his next mission will be a solo one as punishment. He takes it without complaint and leaves as soon as possible. He needed to talk to Ryan and fix what he had done, or hadn’t done.

Ryan is perched on the edge of his bed, untying his shoes. He barely looks up when Kaldur enters, “I’m going to hit the showers.”

“Ryan, can we talk?” He asks hesitantly. It’s the wrong thing to say, “Please.”

“First, you’re cold, now you’re hot. Make up your mind,” He hisses, “I’m not something for you to play with.”

“I know, and I am sorry. I- I am not used to this. I have never – “ He stops, cheeks warm. Ryan frowns at him as realization dawns.

His voice is kind, “Been in a relationship? Neither have I. Listen, I don’t care if you have no experience. I just want you to act like you like me around the team, and I want you to act like you like the team.”

Kaldur sits, heavy with guilt. He had spent so long keeping everyone out, so that he could be a leader, that he hadn’t realized that he was hurting his own team. He sucks in a breath, and Ryan sits next to him. The boy leans against him, offering comfort.

“You know, it’s okay to let people in,” Ryan reminds him gently, “And it’s okay to be angry.”

“At what?” He rasps, even though he knows the answer, has always known it.

“It was the Black Canary’s fault, but they weren’t the ones who sent children to do an adult’s job. They aren’t the ones creating child assassins,” He whispers, low and furious.

Kaldur grits his teeth, heart hurting, “I hate them. I hate them so much. They killed my mother, and they killed Lynx.”

“So what are we going to do?” He asks, and Kaldur stares across the room, to where his water bearers lay.

It’s a while before he speaks, “Forget destroying the Justice League. I want to burn this place to the ground.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Three_ **

**_Miami_ **

**_August 15, 2007    21:18 UTC-3_ **

Kaldur starts observing the other children in the Ivory Tower two days after he returns from the Metropolis mission. He watches, as boys and girls are sent on missions that they do not return from. The rest of their teams seem fine, until the trainers and mentors walk away, and they start to shake or cry, quick to stop when they notice others watching.

The others in his classes, the ones that he had never paid attention to before, pass notes around and show up to class with bloodshot eyes and booze on their breath. It’s nothing different from what his own team did, and what he did. He gets a hold of a few of the notes, and finds rough scribblings about nightmares, death, and worries about other teammates and their own lives.

Ryan starts to talk about developing a plan, something that will destroy the Ivory Tower and free everyone. Kaldur is eager to help, and it’s only when they finish the plan that they realize that it’s not going to work. They needed more people to actually win, but it would be impossible to recruit while inside these walls.

Which is what led him to having a team meeting on the rooftop of an office building, their comms short-circuited by the EMP that some asshole robot had activated right before Cobalt had destroyed it. No one would be listening to them now.

“Why are we up here, Kraken? We know what to do in this type of situation,” Marksman asks irritably.

“Any cameras?” Kappa shakes his head, “This meeting is not about the mission.”

“Then what could it be about?” Cobalt sounds wary, unusual for him.

Kraken hesitates, then squares his shoulders, “In a few minutes, I am going to ask you all to do something that could get you killed, but first, I need to ask a question. Are you loyal to the Ivory Tower, or would you leave given the chance?”

Silence falls across the rooftop, the only sound being the distance screech of cars braking below. Marksman slowly unwinds the cloth wrapped around the face to reveal a startled expression, no different than the ones worn by Cobalt and Chameleon. He narrows his eyes as Chameleon casually rests a hand on her belt, fingers sliding into the compartment that held her throwing stars.

“I would leave, if given the chance,” Kappa breaks the silence, “I want to have a life, and not see the people I’ve killed in my dreams.”

“Where are you going with this, Kraken?” Chameleon speaks up, a throwing star held between two fingers. Her eyes are furious, and he knows that she will kill him if he missteps.

“You know where. The Ivory Tower has taken us from our homes, our childhoods, and forced us to kill for them. For what? Money, power? Nothing that we will ever see even if we wanted to see it. They – they sent us on a mission that they knew we could not handle, and Lynx died because of it,” His voice shakes, but the throwing star has been returned to its belt.

“I want to free us, and the others,” Kraken explains, “Well, by taking control of the Ivory Tower.”

“You’re crazy,” Cobalt states. Marksman huffs out a breath. Her dislike of the Ivory Tower has never been a secret.

“No, he’s not. He’s right,” She decides. The sharp nod she gives him is enough to tell him that she’s in.

“Well, I’m not. Look at me, I’m blue! Do you think I would fit in the real world? At least at the tower, they accept me,” Cobalt looks like the kid he really is, tears threatening to spill.

“They accept you because you’re useful as an assassin,” Kappa spits, “They’re not your friends. They bought you, Cobalt, like they bought all of us.”

He’s crueler than he needs to be, and Cobalt turns away. Chameleon is still completely visible, and she speaks with a firmness that surprises him, “If we do this, then she dies. The Fairy Queen goes down no matter what.”

“You can’t be serious!” Cobalt yells, “This is dangerous, and what’s to say that being free is any better.”

“Are you blind? How many of the superheroes these days look like actual humans? Just because they taught us to hate them doesn’t mean we actually should,” Marksman argues, “Do you want to know who saved me when that gang burned my home and my family to the ground? Superman did, a fucking alien saved me, right when it had been revealed that he was an alien.”

Her voice breaks, “He came from the sky, and the people cried out for him, the person that they said did not belong. All the while, he was kind, and he loved them.”

“A year later, they loved him again. If they can love an alien, then they can accept you,” She says firmly.

Cobalt angrily swipes at his eyes, but nods anyways, “Fine, fuck, I hate killing people anyway.”

“So how does this go, Kraken?” Marksman begins to wind the cloth around her face again.

“We plan, we prepare, and then we strike when we are ready,” Kraken explains, “Not before.”

“If we’re going to do this, break the rules, can we at least use our real names? I haven’t used mine in years, I miss it,” Cobalt practically begs, “My name is Ian, really.”

“Sarah,” Chameleon says quickly. There is a brightness to her face that he hasn’t seen before.

Marksman shuffles her feet, “Tara.”

Kappa is quick to give his name, and then all that is left is Kraken, “Kaldur’ahm.”

“Kaldur’ahm,” Chameleon, no, _Sarah_ , says warmly, “It’s pretty.”

Ryan slings an arm over Kaldurs shoulders, “Just like him.”

“We’re going to do this,” Ian says, eyes bright, “Oh my gosh, we’re going to do this.”

“Not only do it, but we’re going to win too,” Chameleon laughs, “We can do this.”

The rooftop is bright with the sounds of their excitement, and it follows them all the way to the rendezvous point.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_September 3, 2007   20:57 UTC-3_ **

It takes forever to create a new plan, in part because it takes so long to find a place to plan where no one is listening. Cobalt eventually manages to hack into the cameras and bugs in their rooms, and sets them to transmit sound on a loop while they’re meeting. None of their plans are written down or recorded in any way; it would be too easy to find them and discover what they were planning.

With the extra sets of eyes, it’s easier to see the holes that they had missed. They develop two contingency plans, both of which they hope never have to come into play. The only question left is what to do if they win. Some of the children are too young to survive on their own, and Tara is the one to suggest that they contact the Justice League, something that Kaldur is loath to do. He may not blame them for Lynx’s death, but he still doesn’t trust them with the lives of the children here.

He asks his team about what their plans are, and they range from sad to exciting. Sarah still knows where her mother lives, and Tara wants to return to her hometown and find her aunt, who was supposedly still alive. Ryan speaks of finding his mother again, or maybe his father even. Ian is a bit sadder, explaining that he didn’t really know where he was going to go.

They ask Kaldur what he’s going to do, and he comes up with nothing. His mother was dead, and he did not know where Atlantis was even if he did want to go back. He was too ashamed to face his father, who probably would have a fit to know that his son was a murderer.

That night, they get drunk as they celebrate finishing the final design of the plan. Ryan is curled up next to him, giggling loosely as he presses a kiss against Kaldur’s cheek. He’s less drunk than the others, and it allows him to feel the burning warmth in his chest. He loved this team, and didn’t want their happiness to end tonight.

Sarah falls to the floor with a thud, pulling Ian down with her. He chuckles and rolls so that he can kiss her. Ryan swears and gets up, dropping two chocolate bars in his lap when he returns. Kaldur smirks; a good leader knew how to predict a relationship. Tara lets out a howl, whistling dirtily at the sight.

 “Think we could do better?” Ryan whispers in his ear, voice low.

Kaldur’s breath catches, and he rises to meet him, letting Ryan push him back against the couch and press his lips against Kaldur’s own. Fire races down his spine and coils low in his stomach, and he shifts so that his body is pressed against Ryan’s. Somewhere, Ian curses and tosses Tara a pack of gum, the bet clearly lost for him.

A prayer unfurls through his mind, and he begs for this night to never end.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_September 13, 2007    05:40 UTC -3_ **

The main idea of the plan is that they attack when a large number of the heavy hitters are out on a job. There weren’t many times when that happened, but when it did, the Ivory Tower would be easier to take over. Kaldur keeps track of the most powerful, waiting for the right day.

Ryan shakes him awake one morning, “They’re gone. Ironhawk, Tundra, and three more. It’s today or never.”

“Wake the others. Tell them it’s time,” Ryan hurries away, giving him time to dress in his mission gear. He pulls up a loose floorboard and pulls out a bag, full of explosives and other weapons. He presses a comm into his ear, one that had been modified to run on a channel different from the one that the Ivory Tower used.

Sarah is in full mission gear as well, and she solidifies into view only for a moment, tucking the explosives into her belt. In the next hour, they would be placed at key points in the building, where the explosions would cut off specific exits without bringing down the building completely.

The rest of his team is waiting in the common area, expressions grim. Tara twirls a gun in her hand, checking the clip every few seconds. At his nod, she leaves to take her position. Ian hesitates, then hugs Kaldur before leaving.

Ryan surprises him by pressing a kiss against his lips, “Today, we’re free.”

“Be careful, please,” He begs. Ryan only grins roguishly in response as he slides out the door.

Kaldur slides his water bearers into place and sets out to take his position. It’s closest to the Fairy Queen’s room, but he was only to stall her, and not attack until the others were with him. It would be suicide to take her on without the full strength of his team behind him.

He tries to appear normal when Kestrel appears, but it doesn’t work. She stops him, “I see you got the message. We have a meeting with the Fairy Queen. You are going on a special mission, a solo operation.”

His mind stutters to a halt. They had never planned for this. The odds of any of them being sent on a mission during this operation had been so slim that they hadn’t even thought of it. He had to stop the operation, or find a way to delay his own mission until their operation went into effect.

The Fairy Queen grins manically when she sees them, “Kraken, I have a special mission for you. One that involves the Justice League.”

She flips open the file, photos spilling onto the desk, “Five days ago, we received word that an Atlantean had been captured by a rival organization. The Atlantean is being held in their naval base, a ship just off the coast. They want to sell him to the highest bidder.”

“We want him dead. The job is relatively simple. As you are Atlantean, it is likely you will be placed somewhere near his cell when you are captured.  Find a way to get to him, and kill him before someone else can get a hold of him,” She says bluntly, “There’s one more thing. The Atlantean they captured? They call him Aquaman, the king of Atlantis.”

Oh. _Oh._

“You need to leave now. The rest of the info can be read on the drive over to the coast. I have faith in you, Kraken. This needs to be done,” He is pushed out the door before he can respond, Kestrel staying behind.

The operation would have to be put on hold. The murder of a king would send the world into chaos, especially the murder of the king of a country that everyone was watching. Atlantis was new to the surface-world, and no one knew how much power it truly held.

“Kaldur to team, the operation is over,” He taps his comm, “I repeat, the operation is over. They are sending me on a mission, one I must go on.”

“ _Kaldur, we have to do it today!”_ Ryan insists. He sounds desperate, _“What mission? This is our mission.”_

“I do not have time for this. They expect me at the car now. Please, wait for me. We have to do this together,” He yanks the comm out as he steps onto the asphalt, the car idling by the curb.

He tries to distract himself by reading the file, but it doesn’t work. Had he been stupid to abandon the operation, to save the king of a place he hadn’t seen in years? His team, what if they went through with the operation? What if they failed?

What if they succeeded?

The car jerks to a stop, the driver gesturing for him to get out. A small boat is waiting for him, one that he takes out to about a mile off the coast, and a half-mile away from the naval base. Kaldur dives into the water the moment the boat begins to slow.

Their security system was meant to detect large things, like boats and submarines, not teenage boys. He braces himself against the boat, and just breathes, then uses his water bearers to launch himself onto the boat. The men on the deck curse in surprise, backing away at the sight of him.

“Another one! Get the nets!” He raises his water bearers in time to slice the net thrown at him in half, and ducks under the wild swing of one of the men.

He drives his elbow into a man’s nose, the cartilage flattening with a crack. A woman grabs his arm, and his eel tattoos brighten as the electricity surges through them. She falls back, just in time for a giant of a man to take her place. His first punch is easily avoided, but the second catches him on the side of his head. The blow leaves him stunned, and it gives them enough time to throw a net over him. Boots kick his sides as he goes down.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to have a good pay day,” A needle slides into his neck, and then he is gone.

**_The Sandpiper_ **

**_September 14, 2007    08:01 UTC -3_ **

Kraken comes to with a groan, his face swollen and hot. He forces his eyes open, catching sight of metal bars and slimy concrete. Water drips down the walls, and he could feel the waves knocking against the underside of the boat. Someone shifts to his right, and he jerks back.

Pain explodes in his head. Kaldur doubles over, retching as his stomach turns. The stranger lets out a curse, holding him steady as his vision swims. When it’s over, he leans back against the wall, gasping for breath as his ribs complain at the movement.

“Easy, they were not kind to you,” The man says, in Atlantean, “You have bad bruising, and a hangover from the drug.”

“Who are you?” He fumbles the Atlantean, tongue thick. He doesn’t need the answer, but he wants it anyway.

“Aquaman, but perhaps King to you?” The king of Atlantis bore a soft smile, a strange sight on the face of a man so large, “And you are?”

“Kraken,” He’s lucid enough now to feel a little embarrassed. He rationalizes not giving his name. He was on a mission, and giving his name could lead to problems in the future.

Aquaman watches him with sharp eyes, twitching when Kaldur sways, “That is a name for a criminal. What is your real one?”

“Nothing that you need to know,” There are barbs in his voice, “Besides, I am not Atlantean. You are not my king.”

“You speak the language. You look the part,” Now, he can hear amusement, “You bear the tattoos of one.”

“I said that I am not Atlantean!” He yells, in English this time.

The noise is enough to attract the attention of the guard at the corner. He yells, the retractable baton extending to its full length with a click. It crashes against the bars, the sound jarring to his ears so that he cringes away, his headache pulsing strong.

“Okay, we get it,” Aquaman soothes, shifting so that Kaldur was behind him.

“No, you don’t,” The man that speaks has an eerie voice, one that sends shivers down his spine, “You see, you two are worth quite a lot, but you’re not worth enough for me to deal with the noises you make.”

“You are going to sell us, like animals,” Kaldur glares at the man, “I knew that some humans were evil, but I did not know that some were pigs.”

The man shifts, the fluorescent lights making him look sickly and pale, “Remove him from the cell.”

With a loud snap, the baton hits Aquaman’s side, electricity stunning him long enough for them to drag Kaldur out. The man stands over him, “Time to learn.”

He dislocates his arm with a sharp twist.

The world goes white, and he forgets how to breathe for a moment. When he comes to, Aquaman is yelling, and there is blood in his mouth. Kaldur sucks in a breath, his scream dying in his throat. The man nudges his arm with a booted foot, making his vision flash white again.

“Call me the Salamander,” He smirks, “Put him back.”

This time, he does pass out. The concrete is hard against his body as he wakes up, the only relief being a thin piece of fabric beneath his head, “I need to fix your shoulder.”

Kaldur sways as he sits up, but he grits out the words, “Do it.”

Aquaman gives him no time to tense up, instead setting the bone with quick hands. The pain is a familiar one; he’s dislocated bones before, but never so brutally. Kaldur breathes raggedly, tipping his head back to rest against the wall.

“You are Sha’lain’a’s boy, Kaldur’ahm. I recognize you now,” There is delight in his voice, “You are _alive.”_

“My name is Kraken,” He says stubbornly, though it sounds weak even to him, “Kaldur’ahm is dead.”

“Yet here he sits. Tell me, what happened to you? To your mother?” His mouth dries up at the mention of her, and he turns his head away.

“Oh,” Despite the man sitting next to him, Kaldur has never felt so lonely.

“They shot her in the head, and took me,” It’s all he can say, not that it’s enough for Aquaman.

He tries to prompt him, “Who? Who took you?”

“I cannot tell you,” He doesn’t trust him, the man who would have been his king.

He hates the look on the man’s face, stern, like he’s actually letting him down, “I can help. Bring you home.”

“Do you really think Shayeris, or any of Atlantis remains my home? I have not seen that place since I was _nine._ I cannot go back,” The words hurt him as they come out, and he closes his eyes.

He wanted to come home, by the Gods, he did, but he couldn’t. Not when there were people waiting for him to come back to the Ivory Tower, and not when he hadn’t forgiven the Justice League for Lynx’s death. He may have agreed that they were not truly to blame, but he had not forgotten who had pushed Lynx out that window.

Aquaman sighs, “So young, and so wrapped up in teen angst. Whoever took you, whatever they made you do, it is not enough for me to deny you your right to Atlantis.”

“It is not just about me!” He clamps his mouth shut, then forces it open again, “Do you think I would refuse your offer if it were just me? I should not even be here.”

“There are others in the same position as you? Kaldur’ahm, let us help. The Justice League – “ He falls silent at the sight of the murderous look on Kaldur’s face.

“How long have you been here? Three days? What have you learned?” He asks harshly, desperate to change the subject.

“The bars are impossible to break in our condition, but it would be foolish to try that anyways. The best would be to simply overpower the guard the next time he opens the door,” Aquaman explains, “But the issue is Salamander. He has the ability to produce flames.”

“So we do not go near him. As soon as we are in the water, we are free,” Kaldur decides, “As for the guards. All I need is for one to touch me.”

“Tonight, then. You need sleep, and medicine that we do not have,” Aquaman says, noting the thin sheet of sweat that had broken out on Kaldur’s forehead. Kaldur closes his eyes, and tries to doze.

His dreams are terrifying ones. His mother’s and Lynx’s deaths play over and over in his mind, and monsters lurk around every corner. He is running, and then he trips, falling to the ground. Ryan pulls him up, except Ryan is covered in blood.

“Where are you hurt?” He begs him.

Ryan’s breath rattles in his chest, “You did this to me, you abandoned us. _”_

“You did this to all of us,” Tara turns to show the bullet hole in her chest.

Sarah is next, the throwing star glinting eerily in the dim light, “I just wanted to go home.”

“Why did you have to start trouble, Kaldur? We were fine!” Ian rips the knife out of his chest, “And then you got us killed.”

Kaldur wakes up with a hoarse shout. Aquaman watches him with alert eyes, “Trouble sleeping?”

“At least I slept,” He notes the bags under Aquaman’s eyes. Slowly, he struggles to his feet and hobbles to the bars. He coughs, “He – Help! Help! I cannot breathe. I cannot – “

He collapses as the guard turns towards them. Gasping, he slaps a hand against the bars and coughs. Aquaman feigns that he’s checking his pulse and breathing, then looks at the guard, “Do something! He is not breathing. What will the Salamander say if you let his merchandise die?”

The guard’s baton crashes against the bars, “Stand back.”

He unlocks the cell door and hurries inside. Warily, he motions for Aquaman to stand against the wall as kneels by Kaldur. His fingers find Kaldur’s wrist, and then Kaldur’s tattoos activate. He can smell the burning flesh of the man, and almost feels bad for hurting him.

He struggles to his feet and follows Aquaman out of the cell, taking a moment to scoop up the baton the guard had dropped. The weight feels reassuring to him as they near the corner of the hallway. Aquaman swings out first, getting hit with a baton. Kaldur forces himself to move, ducking under Aquaman’s arm and cracking the baton across the guard’s ribs, and then his head.

Kaldur ignores the stunned look Aquaman gives him and limps towards the door that opened onto the deck. He’s stopped halfway there, “Wait, that’s the main entrance. There has to be another exit.”

His ribs are burning, and he wants to throw up, but he follows the king down halls and up stairs, until they stumble upon another exit. They breathe twin sighs of relief when they do not hear movement from the other side, and Aquaman pushes open the door.

Salamander stands on the other side, “Having fun?”

The next thing he remembers is burning, all along his side. Something foul sits in the air, and he realizes it the smell of his flesh, burning and blistering. Blearily, he manages to turn his head to see that Aquaman has fared no better. Burns march down the side of his neck and arm, and he shakes as he struggles to stand.

Rough hands pull him up, ones that break open the blisters on his arms. He howls, only to stop as they tighten their grip. Salamander is smiling, all teeth, as he gestures for the guards to follow him. They drag the them to the deck, to a spot where it is wide enough for a group to stand.

“You know, every once in a while I have to break my merchandise’s spirits,” Salamander muses as a guard hands him a tire iron, “It’s simple. I win, you get to be sold like cattle. You win, you get to go free. I’ll even make the guards over there give you back your weapons.”

He gestures at the guards to the right of them, the ones who held their weapons. Salamander grins, “This is going to be fun.”

The guards drop them as Salamander swings, the iron bar whistling towards them at a dangerous speed. Aquaman grunts, shoving himself in front of Kaldur. His shoulder crunches under the force of the blow, and he sees Aquaman’s face go white. 

The other Atlantean is stunned for a moment, and Kaldur ducks under the next swing and drives his fist into Salamander’s frame. His body is burning hot, making him gasp at the pain. The blow doesn’t seem to throw him off, and Salamander reverses his swing to smash the tire iron across Kaldur’s ribs.

He drops hard as the pain shoves him into shock. Somewhere, Aquaman yells and tackles Salamander, sending them halfway across the deck. Kaldur forces himself up and watches as Salamander twists until he is on top, flames crawling down his arms and searing into Aquaman’s skin.

Kaldur’s foot bumps the fallen tire iron. Slowly, he pulls it into his hands, the iron tearing into the burns on his hands. They don’t hear him approach, nor do they notice him as he raises the tire iron. The sound it makes as it crunches into Salamander’s head is a wet, sickening sound, and the man freezes a second before swaying to the side, dead.

Silence falls. Aquaman stares up at him, “Kaldur – “

“Give us our weapons,” Kaldur grits out, “We won.”

The guards drop the weapons and back up, horror scrawled across their faces. With clumsy hands, Kaldur fastens his water bearers and belt on, throwing Aquaman’s belt against the man’s chest. His water bearers are slow to respond, his exhaustion making focus difficult, but the water slowly forms into his swords.

“Go,” One of the guards, a younger one, says, “You said it yourself, you won. Now leave!”

Aquaman calls to him, “Kraken, we must go.”

Kaldur stares at the group of men, a bitter taste in his mouth. They should die for what they had done to them, and most likely to others, but he couldn’t do it when he was like this. Aquaman would never let him, not that he even cared about the man.

“Fuck,” He swears, and follows Aquaman in diving off the deck of the ship.

He calls the water up to meet him, so that he doesn’t hit it with a force similar to that of stepping off the roof of a building. Aquaman is caught in the water as well, softening his impact. As soon as he is in the water, he relaxes slightly. Salt water soothes his burns, and he whirls around when Aquaman calls out to him.

“We will go to the shore, so that I can contact the League and you can contact your people, if you want. Although – “ Here, he pauses, “I have need of a protégé. I could offer you protection, a home. Perhaps even help your friends.”

The offer is a tempting one, one that he doesn’t trust, “No.”

Kaldur sets out in the direction that he believes the shore is in, if only so that he is too focused on swimming rather than the pity in Aquaman’s voice.

**_Unknown Beach_ **

**_September 15, 2007    00:11 UTC-3_ **

They stumble to shore as the moon reaches its peak. Kaldur scrambles for the communicator in his belt, jamming it into his ear, “Kraken to the Ivory Tower. The mission is a failure.”

“ _The mission is no longer of any importance. We have your location. Walk a half-mile northwest and you will find a town. Stay there until we pick you up,”_ He jerks at the sound of the Fairy Queen’s voice, “ _You are needed here.”_

“Understood. I will require medical attention,” He admits reluctantly.

This time, her voice is a dagger, “ _I am sure you do.”_

“Have you thought about my offer?” Aquaman asks as Kaldur drops his hand from the comm.

“My answer remains the same,” Kaldur replies cautiously, one hand creeping to his water bearers. He fears that Aquaman will not let him leave.

Aquaman hesitates, and he can see that he wants to argue with him. In the end, all he does is sigh and toss him a round case, “In there is a communicator. Activate it, and we will be able to speak through video. A switch on the side will turn on the tracker installed. Only you can activate it.”

Kaldur turns it over in his hands, the Atlantean symbol bright on its cover. Aquaman tilts his head, “You need to go. The League will be here soon. They will not let you leave if they see you.”

The wind whistles as he turns away, blowing sand into his wounds. Aquaman yells at him, voice loud and clear, “Safe travels, Kaldur’ahm. My offer remains the same, and I will be waiting for your call.”

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_September 15, 2007    03:19 UTC-3_ **

The helicopter touches down with a bump. The impact sends Kaldur flying, the handcuffs he wore biting into the burns on his wrists. The two operatives on either side of him yank him up and march him down the tarmac and into the building. They bring him to the Fairy Queen’s office, where they sit him down in the chair opposite of her. A girl stands in the corner, one with light eyes and a diamond tattoo on her cheek.

“Check him,” The Fairy Queen says sharply. The girl shudders out a breath and moves forward, hands brushing his head.

**“Be still,”** He did his best not to twitch as memories flash in his head, _“_ **My name is Gem. The Fairy Queen** **believes I am checking you for thoughts of treason, but I do not care. You must watch.”**

He jerks back as memories flood his head.

* * *

 

_Alarms flash around him. They continue to flash until the memory jerks, switching to another viewpoint. Kaldur realizes that these are not just Gem’s memories but rather the memories of many, cobbled together to create a story._

_He is climbing onto the roof of the Ivory Tower. He recognizes the hands reaching out from his body as Tara’s. She climbs onto the roof of the building and kneels, checking her rifle with shaky hands. In her ear, the comm crackles as he tells them that the mission is over._

_“Understood,” She slings the rifle strap over her shoulder and starts to climb down as Ryan begins to speak._

_“We can’t wait. We need to do this now,” Ryan insists, “I want to wait for Kaldur, I do, but this is our only chance.”_

_“But Kaldur – “ Ian starts to argue._

_“Fuck Kaldur! He could have delayed her until the explosives went off. We have to do it now, before they come back and we’re stuck here for the next three months waiting for another chance,” Ryan argues. Kaldur watches through Ryan’s eyes as he fingers his weapons and gets ready to tackle a patrolling guard._

_Sarah sighs, “He’s right. Let’s do it.”_

_Ryan leaps out of hiding and slits the guard’s throat. A loud boom shakes the building, and then another, until all of the charges are set off. There are children screaming everywhere, but they are ignored as Ryan makes his way to the Fairy Queen._

_“Ian, I need your help,” Ryan gasps. For a second, his view switches, and he sees Tara take out a handful of adults running out of the building, and then he is staring at the Fairy Queen, “Sarah, stand by.”_

_Her eyes are narrowed with fury, and a light pops and dies as she loses a bit of her control. Ian stands next to him, “Ready, Ryan?”_

_Ryan doesn’t answer, instead leaping at the Fairy Queen. She smiles at the assault, the whip wrapped around her wrist uncoiling with a twitch of her hand, “I love putting people in their place.”_

_The whip stings against his face, but it doesn’t stop him from managing to land a cut on her shoulder. Ian races to join him, fighting in a familiar pattern that they had practiced many times before. They fight hard, but can’t fight as well as the Fairy Queen can. Her whip cracks across Ryan’s face, stunning him. Ian roars with anger and goes to tackle her._

_She ducks under the blow and slams him against the wall, arm across his throat, “Kappa, you are the leader? Cobalt is simply a soldier who follows orders. Unfortunately, I don’t like soldiers who follow stupid leaders.”_

_Cobalt wheezes, lines forming on his face. Kaldur – no, Ryan, watches as Cobalt slowly stops fighting as the Fairy Queen sucks the life from him. When she is done, she lets him fall to the ground, looking happier, younger._

_“No, Ian!” Sarah screams. She flings herself at the woman, her throwing stars burying themselves in her skin. The Fairy Queen snarls and blocks her attack with a wild burst of energy._

_She does something fast and brutal, a thing that dislocates Sarah’s shoulder, “Another stupid soldier!”_

_This time, she doesn’t bother with her energy, instead breaking her neck with a harsh twist. Ryan, halfway through getting up, falls back with a broken cry. He does not fight as guards pull him to his feet, nor does he look at Tara when they march her in. They were broken, defeated._

* * *

 

**“Do you see?”** _Gem whispers,_ **“We did not know what you had planned, so we did not come to your aid. The Fairy Queen seeks to kill the others, to have you do it.”**

**“I – I am going to kill her,”** _He decides, thoughts careful and deliberate._

_The memories are fading now, and Gem’s voice goes with it, “_ **You must wait for us.”**

Kaldur inhales and doubles over, coughing. The Fairy Queen speaks with Gem as he recovers, and she appears satisfied when the tears finally clear from his eyes, “She showed you what happened. Good.”

“Frankly, Kaldur, I am confused as to how you did not know about this. You failed your team as their leader,” She begins, “You’ll have to be punished for that, and the rest of your team must be punished as well.”

“Guards, get him a healer and a change of uniform – and a shower,” She adds with a wrinkle of her nose.

An hour later, he follows two guards down a hall. A voice lurks in his mind, one that feeds him information. Gem slowly begins to connect others, until all of the other children are connected. Their voices are a clamor in his mind, some afraid, others angry. They are smart though, and quick to help him form a plan.

They enter the auditorium, where Ryan and Tara are already knelt on stage. Bags cover their heads, and he can see ropes binding their arms and legs to keep them from fighting. Kaldur frowns, stifling back tears and the urge to start a fight.

The Fairy Queen appraises him with dark eyes as he climbs up the steps. She motions for him to stand beside her, passing him his water bearers, “Kraken, you have failed me.”

“You failed to realize that your own team was planning an uprising, and you failed to complete the mission assigned to you,” She whirls on his team, “And you two! You tried to kill me and many others!”

“Kraken, you must be punished, and so must your team. Your punishment is to kill them,” Kaldur looks at the crowd seated below him, rows of children with an adult on the ends of each row, and swallows. The clamor in his mind is quiet, all waiting for his order, “Remove their hoods.”

Ryan spits out a curse as his hood is yanked off, “Shit, Kaldur, don’t do it!”

“You wouldn’t – “ Tara gasps as a guard drives his boot into her side.

Emotionless, Kaldur forms a sword out of one of his water bearers. He approaches Tara slowly, letting her squirm as he prepares himself. There was fear in her eyes, and betrayal. His water bearer weighs a thousand pounds as he swings it.

**“Now,”** He thinks, and slices through Tara’s and Ryan’s bonds.

The room erupts into chaos. Everywhere, children turn on their mentors. Some of the mentors die in the attack, others are quick to dodge and respond with an attack of their own.  Kaldur cannot help them, and he turns to face the Fairy Queen, Tara and Ryan behind him.

She is angry, “How dare _you?_ After I took you in, gave you a home, had you trained!”

“You killed my teammates. They were my friends, my family,” Kaldur says dangerously, “I am going to kill you.”

“Kill me?” The woman is laughing, “I should have killed you when your first partner died. Hell, you should have done it yourself. So weak, just like Lynx.”

That is the breaking point.

Kaldur snarls, pipes breaking as he calls water from every source he can sense.  The stream of water sweeps her off her feet and throws her against a wall. Somewhere, Tara finds a gun, and she disappears into the rafters to help with the fight. Ryan is too quick to take the knife Kaldur gives him, grief apparent in his eyes.

They move as one, disjointed and broken though they may be. The months they had spent training as partners had paid off. The Fairy Queen falls back, seething. Their advantage lay in the idea that her powers were good for hand-to-hand combat. As long as they were able to keep their distance, they could win.

Her whip gleams gold as it bites into his shoulder. The sting is startling, and he moves quickly. The woman dances back as he approaches, water bearers shifting through weapons as he tries to keep her off guard. Ryan darts in and out, landing few hits on her before twisting to avoid her reach.

It is when Kaldur sinks his sword deep into her side that she loses control. The Fairy Queen screams in anger, and loses all focus. Lights flicker dangerously before exploding, and the wave of energy slams him against the wall. Ryan lands next to him, crumpled and bleeding.

The Fairy Queen kneels in front of him, “You wish to kill me? To make me pay for my crimes?”

“Do not pretend that you could ever beat me.  You know as well as I that you are a _child,_ no, you are a beast. We trained you to kill, no more,” She smirks and rises, “I should have known you would betray me. I will kill you, but first, I will kill him. How will it feel to watch another of your partners die? To watch another one you love realize that you have failed them?”

Kaldur surges upward, anger fueling the electricity that sparks in his tattoos. She laughs, touching his arm and absorbing everything he gave her. Exhausted, Kaldur sags backwards. The Fairy Queen wanders over to Ryan, studying him with dark eyes.

“I will drain you slowly,” She promises. Kaldur strains towards her, and cannot do anything.

He sees Lynx teetering on the windowsill again, arms outstretched and eyes wide. There is something horrible bubbling in his chest, a hysterical and panicked thing. There are deaths flashing around him. He sees Ian, scrabbling for support as the Fairy Queen steals his life, and then hears the crack of Sarah’s neck.

His mother is shot, a scream tearing from her lips, “ _Go!”_

Kaldur forces himself up, water bearers clutched in his hands. The Fairy Queen turns, laughing, “Oh, this should be fun!”

She yanks him close, energy pouring out of him, and he lets her. There is victory in her eyes, because she knows he will die, and he does too. Still, there is nothing to care about as he forms his water bearers into swords, and shoves them through her chest.

**_The Ivory Tower_ **

**_September 15, 2007    08:59 UTC-3_ **

Kaldur forces himself out of unconscious hours after the Fairy Queen’s death. Tara sighs in relief when his eyes open, “We thought you were going to die.”

“Is she dead?” She nods, “And Ryan?”

Tara looks away, “No, even though he should be.”

“Tara – “ The name angers her.

“He convinced us! He was the one who encouraged us to go through with this idiotic plan, without thinking, without you!” She begins to cry, “And Ian and Sarah died because of it. I hate him!”

She sobs, tears sliding down her face, “I hate you, and I hate myself.”

“I know, I know,” He pulls her into a hug as she crumples, “We failed them.”

Eventually, Tara pulls away, “We need to finish the plan.”

Tara is right. They find the rest of the children and pull them outside, appointing Gem to watch over them. The few people who had actually been forced to work for the Ivory Tower are forced outside as well, and the rest are killed. A few by him, the rest by the other children who were angry about the mistreatment they had suffered.

They set fires throughout the building. No one would ever know what exactly had been done to them, and that was the point. The next people who came here would wonder about the experiments done on them, the ones that had activated their powers. Kaldur didn’t trust them to not try to replicate them.

The communicator Aquaman had given him is cold in his hand as he flips it open. He presses both buttons at once, letting the camera in it capture his face. A minute passes before Aquaman’s face fills the screen. He looks tired, still injured from the attack, but leans forward as he catches sight of Kaldur.

_“What happened to you?”_ He asks. Kaldur ignores the question, “ _Are you all right?”_

“I am transmitting my location to you. You will need to come, with others. Bring supplies to treat injuries and shock. Enough for thirty,” Kaldur says. He spots Ryan at the edge of the field, the first time he has seen him all morning.

Aquaman nods, _“Will I see you?”_

“Maybe,” He goes to turn off the communicator, but Aquaman’s question stops him.

_“How is your team?”_ The concern in his voice is almost amusing.

“Half are dead,” Kaldur flips the communicator closed, ignoring the unhappy noise Aquaman makes.

Ryan does not look up from the ground when Kaldur sits beside him. His hands are black with dirt and blood, and the boy digs them into the soil with a pained noise. Tears streak down his face, tears that Kaldur makes no move to wipe away.

“I didn’t want to go against your orders. We were just so close,” He finally whispers, “I could taste the freedom. I had to have it.”

“I am sure you did,” There was nothing he could say, “Where will you go?”

Ryan’s shoulders shake with grief, “Not back to my family. I can’t face them like this.”

“There are other facilities like the Ivory Tower, ones that they partnered with. I have a list of locations,” The rest does not need to be said.

He shakes his head, “No, I can’t kill anymore. I think – No, I need to just get out of here. I’ll find somewhere to go, eventually.”

The thought spurs him up. He takes two steps forward then stops, “Kaldur, I – I am sorry.”

“So am I,” Kaldur says sadly, “Goodbye, Ryan.”

“Goodbye, Kaldur,” Ryan does not look back as he begins his walk towards the city.

Tara joins him later, crouching beside him as he watches the other children play in the grass, the teenagers keeping an eye on them and the adults that they had decided to trust, “The Justice League is here. I saw a few of them scouting the perimeter.”

“They will approach as soon as they see me. Will you watch over the others when they take them?” He asks.

“Of course. Kaldur, I didn’t think I had to say this, but you were a good team leader. We were lucky to have you,” She breathes shakily, “Even though they are dead, the others are free because of them, because of you.”

“That does not lessen the pain I feel,” He admits, freezing as he hears the grass rustle behind him.

Aquaman holds up his hands, “What happened? Who are these children?”

“Tara will tell you,” He motions towards the girl, “Keep them safe. Let them decide where they want to go.”

“They’re kids,” Superman drops to the ground next to him, “Why should we listen to you?”

“We were children once, yes, but now we are only soldiers and assassins. It will take time for them to learn how to be kids again,” Kaldur sighs.

“But not you?” Superman folds his arms, “I recognize you from the bank robbery. You tried to kill those police officers – you tried to kill me!”

“We never intended to kill you or the police,” Kaldur grit out, “And it does not matter. The others need help. They need food, shelter, counseling, and a life away from murder. Give it to them, please.”

Aquaman frowns, “And what of you? Even if you do not want to be my protégé, you cannot be out here alone.”

“You cannot make me go with you. Look around, those “kids” you see, they are watching. Take me, and they will do everything they can to take you down,” He isn’t lying. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Gem playing with a younger boy. Both are turned slightly towards them, tense.

“Let him go,” The voice makes him freeze. The Black Canary approaches slowly, “If he needs our help, he will contact us.”

“I will never need help from you,” She jerks back at the venom in his voice. It is only when she makes a questioning noise that he realizes that she doesn’t recognize him.

The knowledge is almost amusing. Of course she wouldn’t remember the other person who had been with Lynx the night she was killed. Tara narrows her eyes, and shakes her head. She knew, and she was furious. Still, she jerks her head at him. _Go._

Aquaman tails him, “Kaldur’ahm, wait! Have you reconsidered – “

Kaldur whirls on him, “No, I have not. I just lost my friends, my family! Do you think I care about being your protégé?”

“Just, leave me alone. If I need you, which I will not, I know how to contact you,” Aquaman lets him walk away, and he hates him for it.

There are motorcycles hidden in a shed at the edge of the property. As he walks towards it, he hears Tara’s voice, “If you want our cooperation, you won’t let that woman near us.”

The others would be fine with Tara as their leader. Kaldur breathes in the air, muggy though it was. Ian and Sarah had deserved to breathe this air too, and he would do his best to honor them.

He had to.

****


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter Four_ **

**_Star City_ **

**_October 12, 2005   22:31 PDT_ **

The lens of the video camera is soulless as Roy repeats the message he had been told to say. Around him, men and women shift, their black vests and masks blending in with the shadows. Across the room he can see his mother and father, tied up and bleeding. His mother had stopped moving an hour ago.

“My – my name is Roy Harper. My mother, father and I have been taken by the Spiders,” Here, he shivers, “They are demanding one million American dollars by midnight tonight, or they will begin to kill us. First, my mother, then my father, and finally me. One for each hour late. Save us, please.”

The man shuts off the camera with a satisfied noise, ending the broadcast, “Good boy. You make your mother and father proud.”

Roy surges up against his ropes, trying to reach the man. The man, called Mars, cracks him across the head with one meaty fist, “Stay still.”

Dazed, Roy sags back. His breathing was fast, too fast, and he tries his best to calm it. Fucking criminals, he wants to curse. They had taken his family’s security by surprise, and had quickly killed them and captured him and his family at the restaurant they had been eating at. Roy had tried to fight back, but he was useless at everything except for archery.

“Carol, Carol! She stopped breathing! Somebody, help her!” His father is screaming uselessly, trying to reach out for his mother.

Mars curses, “Shit, we lost one.”

The next thing he knows, someone is shouting. Dimly, he knows its him, but he can’t make himself stop. Tears stream down his face as the men try to stop him from hurting himself against the ropes that bind him. Finally, Mars snaps, and slams his elbow into the side of Roy’s head.

He wakes up dehydrated, barely aware of the fact that his father has been moved so that he sits next to him. Mars twirls a knife idly in one hand, staring blandy at the camera, “Times up.”

As he goes to draw the blade across his father’s throat, an arrow pierces his arm – a green one. Roy watches as the Green Arrow drops from the rafters, and immediately gets attacked by four men. The effortless way he fights them off is amazing, and Roy is breathless with excitement.

Mars slices through his bonds, “Time to go, kid.”

He screams as Mars drags him away from the fighting, towards where the cars are parked. He thrashes and manages to drive an elbow into his gut as his foot crashes down on his toes. Mars curses and lets him go, giving himself enough time to run back towards the fighting. A cry from Mars indicates that someone has cornered him.

The Black Canary is terrifying, with her hair a lion’s mane and her body all hard muscle. She takes two steps towards Mars and yells, blowing Mars halfway across the room and back towards them. The man covers his ears and just lays there, stunned.

Roy works on cutting his father’s bonds. The rope is hard to cut, but the zipties are easy. His father is slow to move, eyes fixed on his wife, “We have to go, Dad. Come on, we have to go!”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Mars says raggedly, pointing a gun at them. Roy freezes, “You stole everything, you idiot kid.”

He clicks off the safety, pointing at Roy. His father is suddenly very, very alive, and he lunges at the man as Mars fires. The bullet meant for Roy goes to his father instead. Somewhere, Green Arrow’s bow and an arrow are knocked from his hands, clattering to the ground beside Roy.

The draw weight of the bow is heavier than what he’s used to, but it’s not enough to stop him from drawing the arrow back and aiming it at Mars’ heart. Green Arrow yells behind him and tells him not to do it.

Roy doesn’t care.

Mars dies with a choking his sound, the arrow punching through his chest. Even as he falls, Roy is falling to his knees beside his father, frantically checking for a pulse. There’s not one, how could there be with a bullet in his head?

“Shit,” Green Arrow swears. Black Canary hushes him as sirens begin to scream outside.

The paramedics find him slumped over his father’s body, half-catatonic with shock. The Green Arrow and Black Canary linger until they see him loaded into an ambulance, and later he finds an arrow on the nightstand of the hospital room he wakes up in. It is an apology, and a reminder.

**_Star City_ **

**_October 12, 2007   23:14 PDT_ **

It is October Twelfth, and Roy is standing on a rooftop.

It is October Twelfth, and his parents have been dead for two years.

Roy slides down the fire escape, dropping into the alley to shield the woman from her attackers. A pair of men blink at him, partially stunned by the sudden arrival of the boy. Roy flips his bow into his hands and grins, all teeth and buried grief.

“Come and get it.”

Later, the woman thanks him and tries to give him money. He forces it back into her hands and calls her a cab instead. His lungs burn as he races across rooftops, doing his best to simultaneously avoid the Green Arrow and fight crime.

His parents were dead, had been dead, and would remain dead, he knew that. It had been two long years of bouncing between foster homes since then, from families who were too quick to ask about his trust fund to families who wanted him to call them _Mom_ and _Dad._ Roy falls into a roll as he lands on the next rooftop, his anger pouring out in a yell.

A few buildings away, a bank screams out an alarm as two robbers bang their way out of the stairwell and onto the rooftop, “Hurry! He’s right behind us!”

“Fuck this,” The other one yells, gun in his hands. He spins around and opens fire, catching Green Arrow in the shoulder.

Roy swears, because he couldn’t just let Star City’s vigilante die, and grapples onto the rooftop. Quickly, he fires two arrows at the criminals. One gets off a shot before his arrow takes him down, and it sears through his arm.

“Motherfucking criminals – “ He swears and clamps a hand over the wound. Green Arrow looks concerned by the wound and the language, “Don’t give me that look!”

“So you’re the kid running around Star City? What are you calling yourself?” Roy’s cornered against an AC unit, a rookie mistake. His arm hurts too much to simply fire a line to another rooftop, and there was no way he could outrun the man.

Roy spits out a name, “I don’t know. Speedy, I guess? What do you want?”

“Speedy, I want you to come with me. To patch up your arm and maybe talk about your extracurriculars,” He adds as an afterthought.

He is excruciatingly patient as Roy uncoils himself and nods, “Just to talk?”

“Yeah, kid, just talk,” He promises, and Roy follows him to a safe house, wary, but relieved.

He’s relieved to find that Green Arrow lets him take care of his own arm, while the older man stares at him with narrowed eyes until he unravels the mystery, “Harper. Roy Harper.”

“What?” Roy snaps at him, “Gold star for you! Are you fucking happy you figured out that the kid you failed to save is a vigilante? You don’t get to judge me for what I’m doing, or what any of the other kids out there are doing!”

He lets him yell and scream until there’s nothing left, and then, “Look, _Speedy,_ I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not judging you. Of course I am, you’re a teenager fighting crime.”

“There are other kids like you, other sidekicks,” Roy snarls at the word, “And I wat you to be mine. I want to train you to be an actual hero, who can maybe join the Justice League one day.”

Green Arrow leans back against the table, “I’ve also been keeping an eye on your home situation, and I’d like to invite you to live with me.”

“Thanks, but I’m good,” Roy promises him as uncertainty hits. He didn’t know anything about the Green Arrow, but the idea of staying in that home was awful.

Metal screeches as Green Arrow opens a small drawer. He runs a damp cloth along the edges of his mask and then pulls it off, revealing blue eyes and a familiar face, “Will this change anything? My name is Oliver Queen. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

**_Star City_ **

**_February  26, 2008    05:11 PDT_ **

Victoria is not very good at cardio, or weights, or working out in general. Nevertheless, she stubbornly shoves earbuds in and presses play on her phone, and pushes herself to jog out to the park on the edge of Downtown Star City, one of the safer parks in the city.

She staggers to a stop by the woods, ordering the granola bar in her stomach to stay there. She’s in the middle of a stretch when her foot slips, and she tumbles down the slope. The grass is not soft, and she wonders if this park was once a parking lot.

As she scrambles to her feet, her hand brushes against something soft. Something soft, and warm. Shakily, she switches on her flashlight and shines it on the ground, illuminating a body. In the hours that follow, where she speaks to paramedics and then policemen and finally detectives, all she can see is the body, skinny and covered in scars.

A detective is kind enough to tell her that the boy she found is alive, and that he’s been missing for three months. They tell her that she is a hero, and she almost vomits. A hero would have gone looking for the people who had hurt the boy.

The blond-haired man shouting at the police seems like he would burn the world for this boy. Victoria swallows back the words she wants to say to him. Nothing would make him feel better now, not when his boy, this Roy Harper, was laying half-dead in a hospital.

**_Madrid_ **

**_March 2, 2008     19:30 CEST_ **

“I promise you, I am fine,” Kaldur snaps into the communicator. On the other end, Aquaman sighs.

“ _It would make me feel better if you actually enabled the video function, or stayed long enough for us to see you at the bases you are destroying,”_ Aquaman is quick to realize that he’s stepping dangerously close to the line Kaldur had established, “ _I know, I do not have any say in this. Just tell me, are you okay? Do you need supplies? Food? Weapons or medicine?”_

_“_ No. The supplies I have are enough. Be prepared to deploy to Madrid early tomorrow morning,” He tells him.

Aquaman sounds too fatherly as he goes to end the transmission, “ _Be careful, Kaldur. Mera and I worry about you. We want you safe.”_

If there is something Kaldur regrets, it is meeting Mera. Not because she is the queen of Atlantis, but because she is much more vocal about her thoughts on Kaldur’s mission. Vocal like a mother, a mother he did not want to think about because it hurt to think about her. Mera disapproved of what he was doing, because she cared about him.

He didn’t deserve it. There were others who needed the attention. Atlantean civilians trying to live their lives, and the few Atlanteans he had found in the facilities that he had raided. It was kind of them to care, but he didn’t need it, didn’t want it.

He staggers as he stands, suddenly aware that he hasn’t eaten or slept in two days. Money was tight, and he couldn’t afford to waste it on food or a hotel. The abandoned apartment complex he was in would have to be enough, just like the cheap meal he had bought from a fast-food restaurant. He was starting to hate the smell of grease.

Kaldur was fine. He had told Aquaman so.

His armor is covered in scratches, but serviceable enough. A few months ago, when he was stupid with grief, he had spray painted it black and carved a crude swirl into the center. Different enough to let the criminal organizations know he wasn’t part of the Ivory Tower, even if his name was the same. Kraken was a reminder of what he was, and a promise that he wasn’t going to let it happen to anyone else.

“The last one,” He reminds himself, “And then it’s over.”

Should he call Tara, and ask her what to do? She had been one of them, the Marksman who killed so many. Maybe she could tell him what path to take after he burned this last base to the ground. It didn’t seem right though, not when she was trying to forget her past and adjust to being a normal teenager.

And Ryan, Ryan who had disappeared. His family had not had any contact with him since he had left the Ivory Tower, and none of his contacts had heard of anyone matching his description. His fists clench, and the decision is made. There was no way he could find Ryan when he still hated him for leading the first revolt.

He checks his weapons one last time, and then he is leaving, to burn his past to the ground.

**_Salamanca_ **

**_March 2, 2008   21:00 CEST_ **

The girl exiting the apartment building does not look very dangerous. The only sign is the fleck of blood on her neck, and the glint of something fastened at her hip. Kaldur follows at a distance, sure that she has figured out that he is following her.

As he rounds the corner, hands slam him against the wall, “Who are you?”

“My name is Kaldur’ahm,” He resists the urge to cringe away from the blade in her hand, “And I want to help you.”

“What makes you think I need help?” She snarls, her face as red as her hair.

“I told you my real name, but you might have heard whispers of a boy named Kraken,” He says hurriedly as her hand twitches.

The fury in her eyes dies, and she steps back, “A few. Are you here to do what you did to your organization to ours?”

“Do you want me to?” He counters quickly.

This is the test. He wouldn’t do anything without the consent of the soldiers. Some of the organizations he had encountered had actually saved their soldiers, and the soldiers would not fight back against their handlers. Kaldur needed to know if they would fight for their freedom.

She hisses out a curse, “Fuck, yes. My name is Amelia, codename Fox.”

He buys her a sandwich, and they eat together on a rooftop, “They took me when I was ten. Trained me to be an assassin and then started sending me out on missions. I’ve killed seventy-one people, and I’m only twelve. I don’t want to be this.”

“I wanted to be a doctor before I was taken. Now, all I want to be is a kid again,” She says sadly, “All of us are like me. We just want to go _home.”_

She plays with a smooth metal ball, then clenches her fist. The metal crunches into a tiny medallion, the Atlantean “ _A”_ carved into its surface. Amelia presses it into his hand, “For you. Wear it tonight. The others will recognize that it’s one of mine.”

“You have the ability to manipulate metal?” She grins like it’s nothing.

“Kaldur,” She asks softly as he walks her as far as he can towards her base, “Why didn’t you go home?”

He hands her a comm unit as he thinks over his answer, going for the truth, “My mother is dead, and I cannot face my father after all these years. Atlantis is not my home anymore, I think.”

“You should go. I bet your father misses you,” Amelia tries to smile, but it looks more like a grimace.

Kaldur shoos her towards the base, the plan already set. Speaking with Amelia had unnerved him. He didn’t know what he was going to do after all this. Return to Atlantis and become Aquaman’s protégé? He could play the dutiful soldier, serve his _king_ , and find his father, and act like he was normal.

The dream is dead before it can even take root.

**_The Citadel_ **

**_March 3, 2008    00:01 CEST_ **

The guards are too relaxed at this base. Kaldur slices through the chain-link fence and presses himself against the wall as another patrol goes by. The lock on the door breaks as he forces water into it, and he darts into the building before anyone can notice.

Inside, there is nothing but brightly lit hallways and white tile. He ducks into closets more often than not to avoid security. Amelia murmurs into his ear, a reassuring voice as she prepares the others to fight. He slinks along the corridors, placing explosives.

“ _Waiting for your command,”_ She says finally.

He stares down the hall, the blinking lights of the explosives glittering back at him. His voice is flat as he replies, “Begin.”

The explosions rip through the building, bringing down sections of the building with it. The lights that remain on flicker to red as alarms shriek. Amelia snaps out a few words, letting him know that they were fighting with their handlers and security already.

Kaldur turns and heads towards the northern end of the building, where the director had his office, “Amelia, where are you?”

“ _Heading to the meeting point, with someone else who can help us,”_ She responds quickly. Kaldur swears as his distraction is rewarded with a bullet to his chest, thankfully lodging in his armor and not his body.

The fire sprinklers are already pouring water on them, enough for his water bearers to pull up a large construct. Gasping at the pull on his strength, he tries to force the snake down the hall, only for his vision to spin. He falls to one knee as the guards approach, unable to stand.

One of the guards grabs his chin roughly and tilts it up, “This one isn’t ours.”

“Cuff him,” He yanks the metal from the man’s hand and bashes it into the side of his head. It works almost as well as brass knuckles would, “Shit!”

He activates his water bearers again, pulling up a curtain of water to blind them. In the deluge, one of the guards slips and cracks his head against a pipe, and the other is too blind to see Kaldur’s swords until it is too late. The bolt of adrenaline is enough for him to call up his construct again, and bowl the other guards over.

Water sloshes over his feet as he hurries to the meeting point; he never had liked the boots the Ivory Tower had made him wear, and he had been quick to get rid of him. He had found that he had a steadier stance when he didn’t wear shoes.

Amelia slings a metal ball past him, punching a neat hole in his pursuer’s head. A boy stands next to her, one who has a spiked whip. He’s older, maybe sixteen, and he pushes Amelia behind him despite her protests. His fighting is a neat and tidy box, all wrapped up with a bow, and the final guard dies quickly.

“This is Stuart, also known as Bane. He’s my teammate and self-appointed big brother,” She says casually, like Stuart isn’t staring at Kaldur like he plans to kill him, “The director has barricaded himself in his room.”

“Like a coward. This is the only entrance. We have to break down the door,” Stuart snaps out a hand as Amelia begins to warp the metal door, “I promised I’d keep you safe. Please.”

“Fine,” She says with a warm smile, and stands half behind him as she works on pulling the metal door free of its hinges.

The door is wobbling, Amelia’s face sweating as she pulls at the metal, and air blows it off its hinges. They jump out of the way, exchanging startled looks as it crushes a guard’s arm as it hits him. Stuart swears, “We always suspected he had an ability, but didn’t know for sure.”

“You could not have mentioned that early?” Kaldur dives to the side as a knife splits the air where he had been standing.

Amelia and Stuart are a well-oiled machine. She slings two metal balls into the room, slipping to the side as Stuart flicks his wrist, sending a crackle of electricity to follow the flying metal. They make impact with something hard, the man they had been aimed for emerging from the dark room with a scowl on his face.

“My best students, and the famous _Kraken,_ why am I not surprised?” He sneers. Griffin slips a knife into his hand, the blade hilariously small in large hand. He was easily larger than any one of them with lean and wiry muscles.

“I’m going to kill all of you,” He promises, and raises his hand.

A tornado sweeps through the hallway, taking all of the air with it. Kaldur clutches at his throat, feeling the painful way his gills dried out, and more importantly, the way he _could not breathe._ Stuart writhes on the ground beside him, as useless as he is.

Amelia stubbornly sucks in a breath and holds it, hand stretched out to match Griffin’s own. The man laughs, crossing the last few feet between him and the girl, knife in his hand. Amelia doesn’t move, maybe she couldn’t move, but Griffin strikes fast.

And Amelia – stops it? Maybe, he’s not sure. Kaldur can barely see for the lack of oxygen, but he sees Amelia manipulate her hands fast, and the metal knife in his hand liquifies. She clenches her hand into a fist with a vicious intensity that makes her knuckles go white. The liquid metal hangs in the air for just a moment, then slithers into Griffin’s half-open mouth.

Griffin freezes, eyes wide open in surprise as blood first begins to drip, then pour out of his mouth in a messy waterfall. Kaldur inhales deeply without taking his eyes off the dying man, one whose organs are being torn apart from the inside. It’s a slow and painful death, not that Kaldur cares.

Amelia turns to them, grief scrawled across her face, “I – I did it. I survived – “

The blood staining her side suggests otherwise.

**_The Citadel_ **

**_March 3, 2008   05:32 CEST_ **

He had never stayed to see the Justice League arrive. Half out of fear that they would force him to go with them, half out of the guilt and grief that had haunted him since the Ivory Tower. This time, he had stayed, maybe because it was the last time, or maybe because he couldn’t find it in himself to move.

Teenagers huddle on the grass in the compound, beaten, but not dead. Stuart is a ways off from everyone else, hunched over Amelia’s body. No one dared to go near him, not after the way they had seen him punch Kaldur.

A green light breaks through the thick clouds, growing from a pinprick to a platform capable of fitting several humans on it. Superman hovers above them, along with Wonder Woman and the Martian Manhunter. Superheroes crouch on the platform projected by the Green Lantern, along with a dozen or so medical officers.

Painfully, because his arm was stiff from where he had hit the wall earlier, he raises one glowing water bearer in greeting. Superman comes for him, like before, and he sees Aquaman not far behind. Suddenly, Kaldur is _tired_ , and he doesn’t want to deal with them.

“You’ve never stayed for one of these,” Superman remarks, “What changed?”

“It is the last one. I needed to stay,” The words stick in his throat because that isn’t the whole truth.

Cadmus. Cadmus was still out there, the place where Ryan had been created, and he didn’t think that he was ready to take it on, or that he should take it on. What if Ryan showed up, and wanted to destroy it himself?

What if the sky turned green?

His chest throbs as he speaks, “There is another one, but it is not mine to go after.”

Superman huffs out a breath, “Aquaman, handle this. I need to oversee the rest of the operation.”

“Kaldur, are you all right? You are acting strange, like you are injured or in shock,” Aquaman nods at the swelling around his eye, a move that makes Kaldur step farther into the shadows.

“That boy over there, his name is Stuart. Give him all the time he needs. That girl was his sister,” Kaldur is underwater, and somehow he is drowning.

Aquaman frowns and motions to a medic, “Okay, I need you to answer me. Are you injured?”

“No, and I do not need a medic!” Kaldur snarls, “I just do not know what to do now, and I – “

He cuts himself off with a gasp, feeling like he was going to cry. Aquaman catches his arm when Kaldur tries to turn, whether to run or to avoid looking the man in the eye. The action is too father-like, and he yanks free with an angry shout and runs. He breaks through the fence and is halfway across the street before Aquaman trips him. He hops until he has his balance, then whirls to face the man that could have been his mentor.

“Half of my team died. They are dead, because of something I did not do. The other two are gone. One is trying to figure out what it means to be normal when they are an assassin with eyesight so good that she does not even need a scope. The other one disappeared because he cannot bear to look in the mirror for fear of what he might see,” Kaldur yells, “And what of me?”

“I spent months on this mission. For what? To free others like me, or was it just because I felt guilty that half my team was killed on my watch?” He doesn’t expect an answer, “It did not work. I am here, and I still cannot forget or live with the things I have done. What am I to do now?”

“You could come back to Atlantis,” Aquaman says softly, “And heal.”

“There is nothing for me there,” Kaldur hisses, relishing the surprised look Aquaman wears.

The king frowns, “What?”

“Every single time you mention Atlantis, it is always to be your protégé. Never to be with my family,” Everything comes together, and it _hurts_ , “My father is gone, and you have been lying to me about it.”

“When you and your mother went missing, he went crazy. We searched everywhere, and I used everything I had to help, but nothing came of it. There were politics and tension, and I could not spare Atlantis for the search. I called it off; you two had been missing for a year,” Aquaman sags against a lamp pole, “And your father went rogue. He teamed up with an old contact named Black Manta, and disappeared. I have not heard from him since.”

“I know I cannot be your father, or a replacement for what you have lost, but I know you would be a good hero. It is my duty as Aquaman to mentor you, and it would be an honor to have you as my protégé,” It is too much, always too much, “But you need to stop, just for a moment, and learn to live with what has been done to you.”

Kaldur breathes, and the world spins around him, “I – have the communicator, and I will be sure to let you know that I am alive.”

“No, not again. Kaldur – “ Aquaman swears as Kaldur activates his water bearers.

“I am not going to die. I promise, but I am not ready,” He says hysterically, “And I need to go.”

“Kaldur – “ Aquaman tries again.

He shakes his head and retreats into the shadows, “I need to go. Forgive me.”

  ** _Miami_**

**_July 5, 2008   20:04 EST_ **

Florida was a state that shouldn’t exist, Kaldur decides after he swats away another mosquito, but here he was, in a state that was a hurricane away from being underwater. The empty apartment building, abandoned when the economy went under, was the best he could find in way of a shelter without actually going to one.

He fingers the ring hanging on the cord around his neck, next to the pendant Amelia had given him. The glamour charm on the ring’s stone smoothed out his gills and the webbing on his hands, and dulled his hair to a dark brown. A witch in the Keys had given it to him in exchange for his help getting rid of a man who was harassing her.

She had slipped it on his finger, eyes decades older than her eighteen years, and told him, “Your father is out there, and he does not have much time. Go to Miami, Kaldur’ahm, and wait.”

So he waited, restlessly. He went to the beach and wandered the rougher neighborhoods at night, stopped what crimes he could. A reporter had once written an article about what makes a city an attractive place for vigilantes, and what attracted super villains.

She had argued that a vigilante would never make their home in a city that was spread out, because it would take ages to patrol and they would never make it to a crime in time to actually be of help. And because a vigilante wouldn’t make a home in a spread-out city meant that crime would never escalate to involving super-powered criminals. The conclusion had been that vigilantes attracted villains, and that they were as much of a problem as the criminals were.

The reporter had been right, of course, except that she had forgotten to acknowledge the fact that some cities were simply attractive to villains. Miami was a favorite for the criminals who liked to smuggle drugs in and people out. The worst part was that Miami had no vigilantes to help with the crime, and Miami was a mess because of it.

A curse slips out as his shoulder throbs, reminding him that his shoulder was still swollen from where it had been dislocated in a fight last night. He was stupid for thinking that he could patrol a city alone, when he was fourteen years old and falling behind in training.

The police monitor shrieks, a whirlwind of voices pouring out. Kaldur tugs on a pair of dark pants and a black shirt, mourning the armor he had outgrown and ignoring the small voice that told him to call Aquaman and simply ask for help, as Aquaman could go fuck himself.

Aquaman’s communicator lay five feet away, half torn apart, as that was when he had found the tracker and stopped. Since the Citadel four months ago, the Justice League had been popping up everywhere, trying to talk to him and then trying to stop him. For his own good, of course.

He had promised there wasn’t a tracker, that he trusted Kaldur to call him when he needed him. Kaldur guessed things had changed when he had figured out what had happened to his father. That maybe he couldn’t make good decisions on his own.

They were right.

He slides on his water bearers, tugging on the straps of his pack to make sure it was secure against the soft cotton of his clothes, and tucks his necklace into a pocket. According to the police chatter, a tip had come in about an illegal shipment of weapons coming in tonight, and the docks they were coming into were just a few blocks away.

**_Miami Shipping Yard_ **

**_July 5, 2008    23:58 EST_ **

Shouting cuts through the humid air as the men unload the boat. Shipping crates were being unloaded onto trucks. As Kaldur watches from an abandoned dock, a truck drives away, the crate marked with a fake company used by Lex Luthor to import materials not cleared by the government. Mostly harmless, except when he had kryptonite smuggled in.

The real prize were the crates being unloaded now, ones that would go to the local gangs in an attempt to escalate the crime in Miami. Armor-piercing rounds and alien technology, something that the police weren’t prepared for. Kaldur lurks in the shadows of abandoned shipping crates, waiting for the police to make their move.

As if on cue, a helicopter switches on a spotlight, “ _This is the Miami Police Department. Put your hands in the air.”_

One of the crew smirks and yanks open a crate, pulling out an oversized rifle. He opens fire, the bullets tearing through the helicopter like it was paper. Kaldur tenses as the helicopter wobbles, the blades obviously damaged. On the edge of the dock, he steps out of the shadows and activates his water bearers, water streaming up to meet them. A shout rises up from the other dock, the men opening fire on him.

As the helicopter plummets downwards, the water rises up to meet it, softening the impact enough for it not to be fatal. He dives into the water and swims out to the wreck. A pilot struggles in his seat, water rushing in as Kaldur snaps the buckles holding him in. Free, the pilot swims up to the surface to join the others. There is a woman hanging in her seat, unconscious from the impact, and she does not stir when he tugs her out of her set and brings her to the dock.

“Rachel!” The pilot cries out as he pulls her onto the dock, “She’s not breathing. Starting CPR.”

The other officer fixes his eyes on Kaldur, “You’re bleeding. It looks like you’ve been shot.”

“Oh,” He says, and snaps his head towards the other docks when he hears the roar of the trucks start up, “No!”

“Woah, hey, sit down,” Kaldur staggers as the world spins, “That looks like a lot of blood, even for what, an Atlantean?”

This mission as a mistake, he decides, even as he sinks to the ground. Bullet. There was a bullet lodged somewhere in his body. Think. Where was it? He breathes, feels the way his ribs scream. His side, nothing important, good. Now, he just had to hold on until he got somewhere safe. He could do that, right?

Get up, he repeats but he cannot. There is fog everywhere as the officer guides his head to rest on a folded up jacket, still soggy from the water, and fumbles to apply pressure to his side. The officer giving CPR sits back and shakes his head, defeat in his eyes.

“He’s just a kid,” The officer notes, “Paramedics are two minutes out.”

Kaldur sucks in a breath, unable to focus on anything, “He doesn’t look so good.”

“No, he’s about to go under. Too much blood loss – “ He jerks as the officer presses harder against the wound, “And there he goes.”

They look down at Kaldur, breath hitching as he fights unconsciousness and loses to it, “Kids playing dress up. It’s just wrong.”

**_Miami General_ **

**_July 6, 2008     04:12 EST_ **

“How bad was it?” There are voices floating everywhere, amid colors and muted beeping that gave him a pounding headache.

“The bullet didn’t clip any major organs. Really, it was a fairly minor injury in terms of a G.S.W., except that he’s malnourished and probably exhausted. Like any street kid,” The woman explains, “Sir, I understand that you are the king of Atlantis.”

“Yes, doctor?” Aquaman questions. Kaldur strains to open his eyes, but finds that he can’t.

“So you are more than capable of explaining to me why this teenage boy was living on the streets playing target for gunmen, yes? I do not care if he is from an underwater country, or if he isn’t technically a human like most of the people in this hospital. I will have Social Services involved in this,” The doctor promises.

A sigh, “I’ve lightened the pain killers. He should be waking soon. His things are in that bag, by the way. Get your story straight for when the social worker arrives.”

The door slams shut as there is a creak, someone shifting. Finally, his eyes begin to open, and he can see Aquaman through the haze of his lashes. The man dials a number on his phone and presses it against his ear, “Bruce.”

“He is okay. I am going to need a transport back to the tower, plus a pass for him too,” Aquaman frowns, “No, I know. I was stupid for letting this go on. He saved an entire helicopter of officers. I think if I can just convince him to let me sponsor him – Yes, I understand.”

No, he is not going with the man. He refuses to. His father is _here,_ and he is not going to leave until he finds him. Not that Aquaman needed to know that. Kaldur’s mind races. He only needs to say what is needed, that is all.

So, “Aq – Aquaman.”

“Kaldur!” And promptly changes course as soon as the man sees the annoyed look on Kaldur’s face.

“An injured Atlantean at a surface-world hospital warrants attention,” Aquaman ends his call, “I have not seen you for months. Mera and I were worried, and we were right to be. You look awful.”

Kaldur laughs harshly, “I am not your protégé. You have no right.”

“Kaldur, please. You are still Atlantean by blood, and are not a citizen of any other country. I have every right,” Aquaman argues, sounding more like a parent than anyone Kaldur has met in the last few years, “I know that you feel you are capable of living on your own, but your current health proves otherwise. In Atlantis, you would be in one of our conservatories for sorcery. Do you understand?”

“That you are asking me to go back, no,” His reply is a bite, no patience at all.

Aquaman leans back, “Let me explain. You will be returning to Atlantis. With me. As soon as you can be transported. Before that, you will stay in Justice League Headquarters.”

There is a tension between them, each waiting to see what the other would do. Kaldur is the first to break, bowing his head, “I will go with you then.”

“You – you will?” His would-be mentor grins delightedly at him as he nods, “I thought you would fight me more.”

“I would be happy to do so,” Kaldur says drily, prompting the other man to raise his hands, “I have a headache, and looking at you is making it worse. Can you get me water, or something?”

The teenage-like sentences work on him, as it seems that Aquaman views him more as a surface-world teenager than the Atlantean soldier he would be in Atlantis. Aquaman claps him on the shoulder, and he really is acting too much like a father, because Kaldur suddenly wants him gone.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. I need to make a call,” Kaldur relaxes only when the door slams shut.

His fingers fly to the I.V. in his arm, detaching it carefully before reaching to unplug the heart monitor. When he stands, he falls back onto the bed as his head spins and his side aches. Slower this time, he gets up and wobbles over to the bag on the desk.

The shirt he was wearing is torn apart, paramedics having ripped it open, but his pants are only slightly damp from the water. He fumbles to put them on, wishing desperately for shoes to make him less noticeable. Thankfully, he finds his necklace in his pocket, the ring and glamor charm still intact.

The real issue is that he needs something to hide his water bearers. Kaldur looks around frantically and sees nothing except Aquaman’s leather jacket. Briefly, he thinks of how idiotic it is to wear a jacket in Florida in the summer, then tugs it on to hide his water bearers.

Aquaman stands at the end of the hall, turned away from him. It is so, so easy to slip away through the dimly lit halls. As he reaches the ER’s exit, he hears a nurse tell someone to call a code, for a missing kid. It does not matter anymore, because he is already outside.

He is perhaps twenty minutes into his trek across town when his vision shivers and he doubles over, retching horrible. A searing heat races down his side, stitches splitting open, probably. The bus stop he is by is suitable for passing out at, which he does so promptly.

Kaldur is, after all, a certified mess.

A man leans over him when he wakes, making him realize he is nowhere near the bus stop. He frowns at him, the gills cutting into his neck fluttering in distress, “I should call Manta.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Another man leans into view, this one familiar, “Hello, Kaldur.”

The man that smiles at him cannot be – it is impossible after so many weeks of waiting. Kaldur lets himself be tugged back down into sleep, because dreams are better than any reality that he is in right now.

The man standing over him cannot be his father. It is impossible.

_**End Part One** _

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Angels in the Architecture by Frank Ticheli


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